A Lesson in Humanity
by TheGreenDoor7
Summary: Dark!Fic. Loki returns ready to show his brother the weakness of the human race. Can the Avengers survive his plan and overcome their pasts to defeat him? BlackHawk and team relationships explored. The rating may become M in future chapters.
1. In the beginning

Disclaimer: I own none of these characters.

Authors note: This is my first fic. Please review so I can improve.

The first thing he felt were familiar, cool fingertips brushing a stray hair across his forehead and tucking it behind his ear, but this sensation was followed quickly by pain. It rushed down his spine and skittered over his back and the thigh of his left leg. He shifted and was reminded of the long, hot slashes that ran across the length of his broad shoulder. Sweat broke out on his temple and he suppressed a groan.

"I never wished this for you, brother. I may not be one of your kinds, but I loved you as if you and I were the same."

Thor opened his eyes and took in the sight of an imperious Loki standing over him. He looked impossibly tall and he was dressed in fine garments of green and black. Thor imagined he would have made a great king if looking the part was all it took. If you didn't also need compassion and reason to rule. Thor took a moment to observe his surroundings. The room they were in was a large doom made of cool grey stone. The floor he lay on was composed of slats of polished wood which the torches encircling the wall bathed in warm light. It was beautiful and inhospitable, so very similar to Loki.

"Loki, what have you done?" Thor shifted, trying to raise himself up. He heard chains rattle and looked down to see his wrists bound in heavy metal. Yet the golden bindings seemed to do more than just chain him. They were sapping his god-like strength like Samson with his locks shorn short. His head swam with sickness from the pain, but he forced himself to meet his brother's gaze.

"Ah, my brother, don't move too much, you've been wounded quite badly. I apologize for that, but it was a necessary evil in order to ensure my plan's success."

"Plan? What do you mean?"

"You thought I could be so easily beaten? You think I could be taken by your pathetic humans?" Loki's green eyes glinted with malice and disgust. "What a low opinion you have of me."

"Loki, it does not-"

Loki abruptly sprang forward and gripped Thor about the neck, his thin fingers tightening like a vice.

"No, brother! No more words from you. I have spent my whole life listening to what you think. Now you will listen to me and I will teach you something." Loki's words were clipped and spit them out. If Thor were not chained he would have touched his brother's cheek for he found Loki's rage something to be pitied. He could see Loki's pain that was just beyond his burning fury. It saddened him that he had failed him so badly. That they had been forced to this dire conclusion. Yet, also felt a great, frothing ire beginning to bubble in his chest. The shame of being beaten and bound was too much for his pride. Still, he knew he should suppress it for now, until he found a weakness, a moment to strike. As if sensing Thor's inner turmoil Loki smiled and patted his cheek patronizingly. "Poor boy, I know how you hate chains, but they are for your own good. I am here to save you. I don't know what happened to you when you first came to this world. What these mortals used to enchant your heart, but I will break you of it. I will show you the light. They are weak brother. They are nothing like us. You will watch and learn the truth about these loathsome creatures."

Thor wrenched away from his brother.

"Loki, do not do this! Killing an entire people? You will never be free of the guilt you will carry after destroying a race that's power could never hope to match your own."

Loki turned his back to Thor and sighed. Then he began to laugh.

"Loki?"

"Brother, you never did have a tactical mind." he said. "I will rule these people. That has always been my intention. What need have I to kill them all? No I only need a few to prove my point to you."

The haze of pain was lifted as the reality of his brother's plan streamed through him, filling him with hot metal.

"My friends?"

Loki turned to Thor and smiled approvingly.

"Bravo, brother. There is hope for you yet. Yes, "The Avengers". Who better to stand for a race of people than their champions? Their so called heroes? I will admit the choice was in part selfish on my behalf. Ever since they destroyed my army, I have been rather looking forward to having a good, what is it that they say in this world? Ah, yes, heart to heart, with your friends."

Thor attempted to stand. Suddenly two masked specters appeared on either side of him and assisted him to his feet. Thor knew Loki had been dabbling with replicating himself into an army. It appeared he had finally had a breakthrough. In other circumstances Thor would have been moved by their help, knowing it was in fact a part of his brother behind each mask. He loved his brother, but his heart was twisted and now Thor knew definitively, there could be no saving him.

"I'm glad to see you are so eager for my tutelage. I promise the lessons will be well worth learning."

Author's Note: Thanks for reading. I already have the next chapter partly written so please check back soon...


	2. Waking Up to a Brave New World

Disclaimer: I own none of these characters.

Author's Note: This story is based on the film, not the comics, much of the backgrounds for the characters are from my imagination.

Tony woke with a brassy ringing in his ears. He groaned and rolled to his side and touched something warm. He opened his eyes and saw Natasha curled on her side next to him, apparently knocked out cold. There was a bruise blossoming on her bare arm and her face was obscured by unruly curls. A few feet away from her propped against the stone wall was Clint, also unconscious, but Tony could see his chest gently rising and falling. This was reassuring to Tony._ No one dead yet._ He mused grimly. Tony couldn't help but wince when he noted that he was dressed in one of his expensive suits, not his armor. _I should just wear it to bed from now on. Who knows, Pepper might be into that sort of thing._

Shaking his head he turned stiffly and met Steve's placid gaze.

"You're awake. Finally." Steve said rubbing his eyes. Tony noted that he looked unharmed.

"Good Morning Sunshine." Tony quipped.

Steve sat across from Tony. He seemed calm, but then again, Steve was always graceful under pressure. He was an Army boy through and through.

"Where are we?"

Tony stood up and looked at the cell in earnest for the first time. It was small, but lofty, maybe 30 feet up he guessed. Windowless and empty except for his companions. There was a barred door at the far end of the cell, and beyond it looked like a hallway made of the same dull, stone material that composed the cage they occupied. The unimaginative, simplicity of the design made Tony nervous. This place was not built for beauty or comfort, but for practicality. This place was for nothing more than to keep people prisoner and judging by the thick iron bars it would succeed in its purpose.

"Hard to say. We may not even be on Earth anymore for all I know." Steve said.

Steve saw Tony bristle almost imperceptibly.

"Loki?"

He knows that even if Tony would never admit it he was afraid of facing the God unarmed. After all, their last encounter ended with him free falling off his own skyscraper. When it came to hurting people Loki didn't just talk the talk, he walked the walk. Loki reminded Steve of another enemy he'd faced. He never would have imagined that such cruelty could be in other worlds too. Then again, he'd never thought there were other worlds out there.

"Yes."

"How can you be sure?"

"He dropped by earlier. Took Thor and brought Natasha and Clint in. Several of him I should say. He can replicate apparently, or at least that's what it looks like. Smug son of a gun."

"You can say, 'son of a bitch'. I think the title fits in this case."

"Yeah, well."

"Did he say anything?"

"Not much. Just promised he'd be back for us."

Tony crossed his arms in an unconscious gesture of defense.

"Well, at least we have something to look forward to." He joked. Steve smiled quietly and put his head in his large, calloused hands. "This is why I was waiting for you to wake up. Always know how to make light of a dire situation."

"Yeah, well we all have to bring something to the table."

"Right."

"How long have they been out?" Tony asked motioning toward Clint and Natasha.

The slightest look of concern crossed Steve's face. "I don't know. I don't have any medical training so I just checked to see if they were breathing ok and if things were broken or not. I didn't see the point in waking any of you."

"Thought you'd give us a little bit longer in blissful ignorance?"

"Maybe it was the wrong call."

Steve stood abruptly and ran his hands through his hair. Tony saw his face darkening with concern as he went and kneeled down next to Natasha.

"No, that's not what I meant. You made the right call. Steve." Steve's head snapped up and his face was marked with concerned and Tony imagined he could see all those years Steve had on him. "You made the right call Captain."

Steve's face softened and he nodded. _Heavy is the head that wears the crown_, Tony thought.

Steve drew the fiery red curtain of hair away from Natasha's face. She has a scrape on her jaw, but nothing too severe. Steve cradled his hand under her neck and the crook of her knees and gently gathered her up and laid her on her back. She let out a soft moan.

Tony went to Clint and opened an eye, then realized he had no clue what he was checking for. F_ucking medical shows, making me thing I'm a damn paramedic._ Then he took Clint's wrist in his hand and checked for a pulse. It was weak, but consistent. _Well there's something. _

"Steve?" Tony heard Natasha's voice and was surprised at how much relief it brought him. Who knew he could get emotionally attached.

"Just be still a second." Steve instructed.

Tony got up and went to sit opposite Steve.

"You overslept."

"So the gang's all here." She said, rolling her eyes slightly. Then a look of concern swept over her face.

"Well, sort of." Tony offered.

"Clint's here. He's unconscious, but he seems to be ok. Loki took Thor away a while ago and I haven't seen Bruce at all." Steve added the information about Thor and Bruce out of curtsey.

"Loki? He came back?" She asked her face had resumed its mask like appearance, but Steve could see the tension in her shoulders. Apparently Tony wasn't the only one who didn't like the sound of that name.

"'Fraid so." Steve confirmed. Natasha nodded, as her mind raced.

"Do we know where we are? Why we've been taken?"

Tony grinned. He'd never met an assassin he didn't like; they always got straight to the point.

"No, but I think we may not have the home team advantage if you get me drift."

She did.

"And as to 'why'... well, that still stands to be seen."

Natasha shifted, frustrated at having them literally looking down on her. Steve grasped her arm and helped her to sitting position with her back against the unyielding wall.

"Well, if he wanted to kill us, he would have done it, so immediate death is off the table. Besides its too crude for him." She said.

"Yeah, he likes a certain flare with his destruction." Tony said blackly.

"So, it's a tactical move. We're going to be used for something." She moved her neck to the side and heard a satisfying crack, which Steve winced at. Russian girls really were something else.

"Possibly, or he just wants to torture us for weeks on end because he's a bully with a magnifying glass." Steve said. They all breathed out. He'd given voice to the possibility that they all feared.

"Thanks for that Cap'n." Tony wasn't a sissy, but the idea of torture, given his past, made his stomach roll.

"No, Tony, Steve is right; it could be just to hurt us. But I still don't think so. Simply hurting us wouldn't satisfy Loki, he is always thinking about the endgame. Torturing us isn't enough for him. Aside from personal satisfaction, what would it do for him? Not much. He focuses on the big picture too much to waste us like that, no; I think we're going to be pawns."

"Wow, what'd you guys date or something? You seem to know him so well. Does he like long walks on the beach, I bet he does." Tony retorted.

"I've known men like him before, when I was a very young girl." She said and placed a hand on his arm. "It's ok to be afraid Tony, fear is healthy, it protects us."

When Tony's eyes met he's they were filled with gratitude, something she had not thought him capable of.

The sound of footsteps echoed suddenly at the far end of the hall.

Steve stood up and looked toward the door. He his knees trembled at the thought of what Loki might to do them, to his team. After being frozen and losing all that time he never thought he'd have a sense of home again, but he'd found it. In the short time he'd known and fought with The Avengers he'd grown to respect them. They were the closest thing he had to a family and he was their leader. He could not show weakness now.

Behind him, Tony helped Natasha to her feet. She braced herself against him for a moment as her head spun and then released him when her vision righted itself. She saw Clint for the first time, leaning against the wall across from the door. Suddenly the memory of their capture rushed back to her. How they'd fought, but been overpowered by Loki's minions. The last thing she remembered was Clint lying on the floor yelling for her to run. Then a glowing hand went around her mouth. The green magic stole the breath from her lungs and all she saw was blackness. She wanted to go to him, to kneel beside him, but the sound of the boots grew louder. She had to kill her concern for him, to deaden that part of her. As Lady Macbeth had said, "stop up the access and passage to remorse". She'd done it so many times before; she had to will herself to do it with Clint. She stayed planted next to Tony and fixed her eyes on the door. She would never let anyone be a weapon against her, least of all him.

Author's Note: I hope I got these characters right. A great deal of this just flew out of my mind so I'll take that as a good thing. Please let me know what you think. Also, thanks to Billy Shakes for the Lady M.


	3. The Iceman Cometh

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this story.

Just before they came within sight of the wrought iron cell door the specters threw Thor to the ground. The chains that bound his wrists clattered on the hard floor and Loki mused that they had an almost musical quality to them. He heard Steve's breath catch in his throat at the sight of Thor shackled and brought to his knees outside of the cell. It cheered Loki to the very core. He had such plans for the Captain, such plans for them all. He hated them all each in their own special way. In the brief time he'd known and fought them they'd shown him the chinks in their armor. Humans were not so mysterious, but it was a real art to figure out which way to twist them to get them to break just so. Physical pain wasn't sufficient for them. It was too archaic. He wanted them broken until no magic was needed for them to bow to his will. He wanted them to willingly sacrifice themselves on an altar to please him. He would worm his way into their hearts and unravel them, thread by thread. If he could do that to the champions of the human race, he could take Earth with ease. He'd strip them bare and show his brother what the "mightiest" from his beloved world were really made of.

"Loki." Steve greeted him, regarding his twin specters with suspicion.

"Ah, the 'fearless leader'." Loki chuckled.

Loki had gone straight for the throat, attacking Steve's confidence, trying to shake his belief in his ability to lead a team

"What do you want Loki?" Steve returned casually.

"If I tell you that, what fun will it be for me? I do apologize that I couldn't find you more comfortable lodgings. Though, perhaps the familiar surroundings will make you feel more at home, Natasha." Steve looked back at her confused. There was still so much about her that was a mystery to him. Loki grinned wolfishly, she kept her secrets well. _Smart girl_.

"Seen one prison, seen them all." She replied smoothly.

"Well, good then you won't mind staying a while. Now if you will kindly step back." Loki said motioning one of the specters to unlock the door.

Steve stood his ground.

"Tsk, tsk." Loki raised his staff and a light burst forth. Instinctively Natasha moved back, pulling Tony with her, but Steve who was too close was knocked back by the blinding force. He landed sprawled on his back. Suddenly, Loki appeared in the cell looming over Steve.

"You'll do best to follow my orders from now on. I am not to be trifled with. The lives of your friends depend on it after all...Perhaps, if I had some help." He turned and his eyes fell on the Clint's prone figure.

"Ah, he did serve me well before." He lifted his staff again and approached Clint.

Tony felt Natasha's fingers dig into his shoulders. He'd have marks later.

"I learned so much from him. He is wonderfully intricate and damaged."

"Loki, you must stop this madness!" Thor said. The links in the chains buckled as he surged forward.

"What brother? Would you rather I killed him? Killed them all? Is that what you desire?" Loki asked lowering the staff until it nearly grazed the white undershirt covering Clint's chest. Tony almost let out a groan as the pressure on his shoulder increased.

"No. Don't kill him." Tony spat just as the staff neared Clint's heart. The pressure from Natasha's fingers lessened slightly.

"Ah, Mr. Stark how nice of you to join the conversation.' Don't kill him?' Is that your vote?" As Loki stepped away and turned his attention on Tony, Natasha let out a lungful of air. "But what about what he did the last time he was under my control? Do you not know the torment he felt? A prisoner within his own mind, forced to watch himself kill the people he'd worked with for years? Would it not be more merciful for me to kill him as he sleeps, than make him suffer that again?" Then Loki's endlessly green eyes fell on Natasha. "Do you not fear what I will make him do?"

"Loki, killing him like this would be a death fit only for a coward. He doesn't deserve that." Steve's voice broke through the tension that seemed to hum in the air and Loki turned away. He walked back toward Clint and again held the staff over his heart. He laughed merrily.

"I was never going to kill him. After all, I have promises to keep." With that the tip of the glowing staff touched Clint's chest. Clint gasped awake and his eyes blinked open. The light bluish grey hue of his eyes had been replaced with unnatural icy film and his face remained expressionless.

"It's so lovely to have you back Agent Barton."

"Sir." He stood and nodded to Loki.

"Now, brother, " Loki turned his attention to Thor, "who would you like to see first?"

"Loki." Thor croaked, as near to begging as Loki had ever heard from him. The chains and the emotional torment were proving to be an agonizing cocktail.

"First for what? What are you planning to do to us?" Steve blurted out in frustration.

"So eager to find out?" Loki asked approaching Steve with his staff raised. "No, I don't think you will do, not yet any way."

The muscles in Steve's jaw clenched.

"I think I'll take the heartless one first."

Natasha flinched and braced herself. She wasn't ready to be taken, to be alone with him again.

Loki smiled at her and snapped his fingers. Clint moved toward Tony and Natasha, who simultaneously took a step back. Clint grabbed Tony by the wrist and twisted it behind his back immobilizing him. Natasha, acting on her training, hit Clint with a swift right hook.

The sudden chaos was brief, but brutal. Steve threw himself at Loki who had his back turned to him and sent them both crashing to the ground. Just as Loki was falling, Thor sensing a weakness in the specters grabbed the chains that bound his wrist and yanked. The specters, who each held a chain, were taken momentarily by surprise and fell to the ground. Thor managed to overcome the first one, but the second on took a taser out and shocked him several times. He collapsed onto his knees with a grunt of frustration. When he looked up he saw Loki grappling with Steve, the glowing staff just beyond his reach. At the far end of the cell, Tony lay motionless on the ground and Natasha was straddled over Clint trying to subdue him. In swift motion he struck her in the solar plexus and violently shoved her off of him. He stood and kicked her in the stomach for good measure. Beside him on the cell floor laid Loki's staff, Clint revently knelt and picked up. He held it against Natasha's throat briefly. A fox-like smirk spread over his face, but the heart of the man she knew was not behind it and it revolted her. She wisely stayed down, but looked up at him with her eyes brimming in agony. Clint then moved to Loki's side, kicking Steve in the back and knocking him against the iron bars of the cell door. Thor slammed his fists against the ground and let loose a great roar.

Loki stood and adjusted his clothing. He looked around him as he swept his dark hair out of his eyes. "These are your world's champions? How pathetic...Bring the heartless one." He said to Clint, who grabbed a dazed Tony by the collar and yanked him to his feet. Loki went to the far side of the prison, winking at a stunned Natasha as he passed her. She seethed inside but held her tongue. At the far wall he drew his staff and tapped the wall. The stones disappeared and were replaced by another cell door. Beyond it Thor recognized the great dome room that he had awoken in. The door swung open and Clint dragged Tony through and the specters followed with Thor in tow. Loki looked back at Steve and Natasha who had both risen to their feet.

"That was most unwise. You will find that there is no way to escape this place. Obedience is the best course of action from now on." With that he walked through the door his long jacket sweeping in his wake. The cell door closed, but the wall didn't return. They could see little of the domed room through the door, because it was far recessed into the wall, but they could hear muffled voices. Steve was sure Loki had designed the prison with this in mind when Tony's screaming began.

Author: So it is going to get darker from here on out. It won't be like "Saw", I'm talking more psychological, but I just want people to be aware. Please, please review, even if is just to say you were here and want me to keep writing. It would mean a lot!


	4. Turn of the Screw

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters.

Author: Thank you guys for the support! Please remember that this chapter is darker.

Tony wasn't sentimental, but when he awoke with his wrists tied behind his back he couldn't help his lips from twisting into a smirk. _Well, this is familiar._ Of course, the circumstances couldn't have been more different. The last time he'd been in this position a gorgeous woman, the love of his life, had been standing over him in nothing but her unmentionables. Tony found his current situation considerably less sexy. Tony couldn't help but laugh at his predicament.

"Is something funny Mr. Stark?"

Across the room from him, Loki sat in an extravagant, high-backed throne. It reminded Tony of something he had seen in a painting of Henry VIII. _Not a great association to be making right about now. _ Clint stood at Loki's right hand with his bow draw and his eyes blazing an unnatural blue. It chilled Tony to his comrade poised for an attack.

"Aside from that cape you're wearing?"

"Ha. I do hope you slept well. You'll need your strength."

Tony struggled to his feet and surveyed the room. No clear exits. He wondered how they'd gotten in. The décor appeared fairly medieval. It was functional, not fashionable. _Not really Loki's style. Where is all the evil mastermind flare?_ He spotted Thor chained and gagged on the other side of the circle facing Loki's seat. _So we have an audience? That changes things._ Tony filed this away for later. He swung around and nodded with mock amiability.

"I did sleep well actually. Thanks for asking. Now I have some points I think I need to address before we get on with the whole torturing bit. A. You can just call me Tony. I figure we're going to get pretty intimate. I consider someone torturing me intimate. I know- I'm just old fashioned kind of gal. There is no need to be coy. B. Is Robin Hood over there really necessary? I mean you have a pretty great thing going on with that glow stick. Can you get him to stand down?"

Loki snapped his fingers and Clint lowered his bow mechanically. Then he moved to one of the many deep shadowy recessed areas in the let out a small sigh.

"C. Go fuck yourself. D. Do you really think they're not looking for us right now? I don't know if you heard, but I'm kind of a big deal. So unless you plan on killing me now, you might as well just let us all go."

Loki clapped in slow, loathsome condescension.

"This is wh-"

"Oh and one more thing, I technically do have a heart. I just want that on the record."

Loki pursed his lips and waited a moment.

"I know you do." He stood and began a measured path around the room. "That is what will make this so very interesting. One thing I observed about humans is that they seem to hold one virtue above all others: love. I find it curious that you are a champion for such a world. You create weapons to kill and maim. What could be farther from love? Not to mention, you yourself are made of vices. Greed is as much a part of you as blood and pride is as fundamental to your existence as the need to breath. Yet, you are adored and lauded by thousands of your kind. You yourself said so, 'You're kind of a big deal'. So you see I learned that the humans only claim to hold goodness in high esteem. If they can hold you up as their deity, then they are nothing but wretched frauds."

With his finals words Loki completed his round and stood before Tony.

"Would you not agree? _Tony?"_

"No."

As Loki moved toward him, he drew a sharp, gleaming knife from a black leather sheath at his hip. Tony tried to back away but he felt himself come up against a hard body. Slender fingers clasped his forearm. Tony felt warm breath on his ear and recoiled.

"Are you claiming that you are not arrogant and greedy?" The vision of Loki in front of him faded away with a mischievous glint in his eye. Tony felt the bindings on his wrists release and Loki relinquished his claim on his arm.

"I really fucking hate it when you do that." Tony said as he turned nonchalantly to face Loki. "I'm no saint, it is true, but I never claimed to be. All humans have flaws."

"Hm, yes. They seem to be entirely composed of flaws."

_What is his game?_ Tony knew there was a point to this conversation. He knew Loki was playing verbal chess with him. He just couldn't see enough moves ahead to know where the checkmate would come from.

"As much as I love philosophy, I'd like to know if there is a point to all this Socrates." Tony smiled knowing Loki may miss his reference. _I hope you keep philosophizing right up until I kill you. _

"Would you take it all back if you could?" Loki pivoted.

"What?"

"All the deaths, all the lives you've cut short?"

"I created weapons to protect people. I don't relish the deaths those weapons have inflicted, even on my enemies. So don't try to paint me as some sadist. That's _you_, remember?"

"Ah. What a weary excuse: hiding behind the brassy shield of patriotism. Do you hear that brother?"

Loki crossed the expanse of the room and whispered conspiratorially in Thor's ear.

"Do you hear that brother? He is noble. He works in the defense of his nation. Do you not see how these human's work? They have deceived you. I will unmask him. I do this out of love, brother."

Thor didn't stir. His gaze remained fixed on the polished floor, but his flaxen eyebrows hitched at his brother's insidious words.

_What does this all have to do with him?_ Tony wondered.

Loki straightened and smoothed his waistcoat.

"You claim to be a patriot and yet you took money for your service, didn't you? Was this a _noble_ gesture as well?"

Tony remained silent, but refused to look away from Loki's emerald gaze.

"No. You are no patriot. You are a mercenary, a war-profiteer. Without conflict you would be nothing. You feed yourself with blood."

Tony opened his mouth to retort and felt a warm sensation slide over his chest. He looked down and saw blood smearing his crisp shirt. He touched his fingers to his lips and they came back dipped in red.

_What the fuck._ Tony's scientific mind was both fascinated and repelled by the appearance of the blood. He knew that is wasn't his because he felt no pain, but it was real. He could taste the metallic tang on his tongue and the warm, slick feelings on his fingertips._ Magic? _For the first time Tony felt venerable.

Satisfied with the shocked widening of Tony's eyes, Loki lazily leaned back in his resplendent seat.

"There is blood on your hands_._"

Tony looked down and saw blood dripping off his fingers. It pooled on the floor, but he still felt nothing. He felt nothing physically, but fear was beginning to snake through the pit of his stomach. His chest tightened. No one did this to him. He felt like a child.

"What the hell do you want from me?"

"If you could be absolved of your crimes would you choose to be?"

Tony's bawled up fists shook and the twin pools of crimson continued to spread.

"I haven't committed any crimes!"

"You manufacture death! Isn't that a crime? Look at your hands!"

"Yes…" Tony said defeated. He was mesmerized by warmth of the blood that coursed over his palms. The pools were beginning to merge and paint the sides of his shoes.

"Would you trade places with the victims? If it meant you could gain absolution?"

Tony closed his eyes and shook his head._ This isn't fucking real! This is just a game of chess._

"Well? Would you?" Loki strode over to Tony, who seemed to be oblivious to his presence.

"Would you take their place? Would you die for absolution?" In his passion Loki hardly realized the strength of his own fury. It seemed as if an alien force conducted him as he jabbed Tony's shoulder with his staff.

Tony's eyes snapped open.

"That's what confession is for." He quipped tremulously.

Loki chuckled.

"But you don't believe in a higher power, well, other than yourself. Isn't that right? Isn't it!" Loki melted in front of him and suddenly Tony felt himself careened forward, slipping on the crimson mire beneath him. He landed on his hands and knees with a grunt. He felt icy pinch of a blade beneath his chin and looked up at Loki gazing at him. His face was a startling, tight mask of ire.

"No… I wouldn't" Tony chocked out.

"Say it again."

"No! No! I wouldn't do it ok?" Tony slammed his fists into the floor. He could feel blood flecks splash on his cheeks. For the first time in years, tears blurred his vision.

"'The truth will set you free.' Don't humans say that?" Loki asked as he removed the sharp tip from beneath Tony's throat and turned his back on the broken champion.

As the first tear plopped into the pool Tony saw something out of his newly cleared vision. To his right there was a disturbance in the redness, a ripple. Then out of the water emerged a small hand. It was the size of Tony's hand when he was ten years old. The air caught in his lungs and he crawled back. The hand was followed by an arm and a shoulder. Soon the head of a young boy appeared. In less than a minute his body emerged completely from the pool or what was left of his body. Tony knew this boy; he had seen him before. Many years ago in the newspaper there had been a story about the war in the Middle East. There was a story about bombings done with Stark weaponry. The government had gotten the wrong coordinates and had unleashed a full-fledged attack on a civilian area. This boy had died. Now he kneeled a few feet away from Tony. He could not stand. His left leg was so badly mangled it was held on by only a few sinews and the white bone was exposed at the knee. The bone made a clicked sound against the smooth wood as fully surface from the pool. Tony could only look on in shock as the boy dragged his emaciated body toward him. His face had been partially ripped off by a piece of shrapnel, but his good eye seemed to devour Tony with innocent hunger. He wanted love. Upon reaching him, the boy placed a charred hand on Tony's cheek.

Tony felt the impact of the shrapnel first. He smelled his flesh burning and the bitter scent of singed hair. He heard the crunch of his skull and felt the bone fracture and split. Suddenly, his face was naked. His brain exposed for the first time to air. Then a blow hit his left leg, it ripped at the muscle and tore the tissue off the bone. He wanted to die. He screamed until his lungs ran out of air and there was a deafening silence.

The howl that Tony let out startled even Loki.

Thor looked up. He cursed his brother from behind his gag and beat at the arms of his chair futilely. Loki looked at him with great concern. He needed Thor to understand.

"Do you see brother? I made it so he would feel the pain that this innocent child felt the moment his was struck by Stark's bombs. Do not pity him. He feels the anguish he has brought on this child, but there are many others who have suffered. Do not pity him brother. Learn from him."

Author's Note: I'm working on the next chapters and they will feature much more Captain, Natasha, Clint and Thor in case anyone missed them as much as I did. Please review. I hope you guys enjoyed it!


	5. The Wake Part 1

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters.

Author: I needed a respite after the last chapter. I realize this chapter is more contemplative, but I wanted to focus on team dynamics for a bit. I'll shut up now.

Steve paced the brief length of the cell. Every so often he stole a glanced over at Natasha's stoic seated form.

She was all contradictions. Her skin seemed soft, but the muscles underneath were ridged and resilient. She sat still against the wall, but her eyes darted every so often chasing the fervent thoughts in her mind. Steve was impressed by her composure. He didn't know many men or women who could be so calm in this situation. Then again, he didn't really know her at all. The Avengers had only been working together for a couple months of all his teammates he knew the least about her. She kept to herself mostly, though he knew she had a history with Barton.

It was childish, but he couldn't help feeling a pang of envy when he saw them together. They shared the deep connection of people who had fought in battle together. They were comrades. Perhaps there was more to their feelings, but Steve sensed that they both avoided anything deeper. They didn't want to lose their partnership to love.

When Natasha ran from behind an embankment to shove Clint out of the way of an oncoming barrage Steve was reminded of his brothers in arms. When he observed Clint looking at Natasha from his perch he remembered the love he felt for Peggy, a love that consumed and filled him until his chest felt like bursting. He had never imagined that a person might be able to have both a fellow solider and lover in one being. He didn't know if he'd want the love of his life to go into battle beside him; it would be a terrible burden.

Beyond his own history, Steve wished he knew Natasha better because she was part of his team and he didn't think it was wise for them to keep secrets from each other. His face burned red at the thought of Loki catching him unaware earlier with the comment about the prison. Loki seemed to know more about Natasha than he did. Then again, Loki had Barton under his control and Barton was a font of information. Steve slammed his fist into the stone wall. He had failed Barton. He had failed as their leader. If they died it would be on his shoulders. He punched the wall again. When he withdrew his fist chunks of stone crumbled to the floor and blood seeped from his knuckles.

"Is this an escape attempt?" Natasha asked wryly, not bothering to get up.

"No." Steve returned, shamed by his lapse in control.

"Then I suggest you stop. You might need that hand later." She stood and took Steve's paw-like hand in her two slender ones. Her grip was not gentle, but firm and knowing. It comforted him.

"You're not much for conversation are you?" He asked as moved each finger, checking for any

breaks. "My hand isn't broken. I'm a government experiment; we don't get broken bones that easily."

"You never can be too sure." She said finishing her inspection.

"Are you scared?" Steve asked as Natasha ripped a strip of the sleeve of her black cotton shirt.

"Would it make you feel better if I said yes?" She asked. "Sit."

Steve sat and she crouched beside him.

"No, of course not." Steve replied watching her deftly wrap his knuckles.

"Fear isn't useful. I'm trying to assess the situation and try and figure out what Loki is getting at."

She spit into her hands and wiped the rest of Steve's blood onto her dark jeans.

"You're something else." Steve couldn't help but smile.

"I know. So are you." She replied taking a seat opposite him.

"Did you read my file?" He asked.

"Yes. I wrote your file and Tony's for that matter." She replied simply, looking off at the iron bars. "Do you really think we're on a different planet?"

"You wrote my file?" He felt deceived somehow.

"Yes." She nodded.

"You must know me very well then." He said, all humor gone from his voice. Why did he suddenly feel betrayed?

"No. I hardly know you at all. Knowing a man's history, the dates, is nothing compared to his character. I learned little from your file. Meeting you and fighting with you, that's where I learned you're a brave man and principled, at times to a fault. Still, I couldn't say I really _know _you that would be presumptuous. There is only one way to really know a person."

"What is that?"

"To see him when he thinks he is going to die, in the moment just before."

"Well, I hope you never know me then." Steve joked, but it was half-hearted.

"We all have secrets. Secrets are what make us." She mused, more to herself than to Steve.

With that she got up and walked over to the cell door. Just as she clasped an iron rung a gut-wrenching cry split through the silence.

"Tony." Natasha breathed. She felt frozen in place unable to release her tight grip on the bar in front of her. She felt Steve at her shoulder, but couldn't bring herself to meet his eyes. She'd heard screams like this before. They were the screams of a man who was near death. As suddenly as they began they ended, but the stone dome seemed to echo the torment for several seconds. Perhaps it was just in her mind.

"I'll end him." She looked up at Steve. In the dim light, his face looked less boyish and more drawn. His lips were set in a thin line and his eyes stared unblinkingly at the shaft of light issuing from beyond the cell door.

Natasha nodded. God or no, she would do what she could to see that Loki died.

There was a sudden tumult in the adjoining room and suddenly Clint appeared with his bow draw. On instinct Steve withdrew several places, but Natasha stood her ground. She refused to let Loki make her run from him.

Following Clint was Thor bearing Tony's immobile body in his arms.

"Is he dead?" Steve asked.

Thor shook his head.

Natasha inhaled a relieved lungful of air.

Clint came to the bars and took a thick silver key out of his grey cargo pocket. The door swung back and Thor entered the room. Clint swiftly locked the door behind Thor but paused before he left. He placed a partially gloved hand over Natasha's and looked into her eyes. For a moment it was as if the spell was broken. It was the Clint she knew.

"Nat." He said softly, as if appealing to a higher power.

Then with a blink, his eyes returned to the pale blue film of Loki's servitude. He smiled mirthlessly and walked off.

Had she just imagined it? Could Clint shake himself of Loki's magic? Or was it a game, a ploy of Loki's?

The hand on the bar was white from the force of her grip.

Author: Part two is currently in the works. I hope you guys enjoyed it.


	6. The Wake Part 2

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters.

"Natasha."

Thor cautiously placed a hand on her shoulder. She didn't jump at the contact but slowly turned to look up at him. She looked almost childlike compared to Thor's stature. There were worried, dark rings under her bright eyes, but she smiled up at him. He impulsively clapped his massive hands around her shoulders and shook her good-naturedly. She sensed he was resisting the urge to hug her. She disliked being touched, but she made an exception this time because she was relieved that even after his suffering he still retained his overwhelmingly jocular and bombastic nature. He searched her face for a moment.

"I'm fine." She said and shrugged off his hands.

Thor smiled at her bravado; it reminded him of his own posturing.

She noted the silver chains around his wrists. Each link was inlaid with flecks of a shiny black stone.

"I don't understand." Steve said, drawing their attention away.

He was bent over Tony's motionless figure. After checking his vitals, he'd removed Tony's sweat-soaked, dress shirt and replaced it with his own simple, grey hoodie. Still, Tony seemed chilled. His shoulders shook and his face was a sickly pallor.

"We heard him scr-…we heard him, but he seems unhurt. What did Loki do to him?"

"He used magic on him. My brother possesses a terrible power. He can make you see things that are not there and feel things that are not real." Thor said. His face twisting at the memory of Tony covered in blood and the broken boy.

"So he isn't really hurt?" Steve asked.

"My brother used Tony's own mind to wound him. He is physically unharmed and shall live. I am not sure exactly how long it will take for him to recover, that depends on Tony's emotional and physical strength. What Loki is capable of I did not know until now. He is more ruthless than I ever dreamed."

"Do you know what he wants?" Steve pressed on.

"I believe I do. He dislikes my love of Earth and of your kind. His envy and hatred has made him blind to reason. He wishes to show your weakness, to make me hate you. I've told him he is wrong, but I fear he is beyond my help. Our only hope is to catch him unaware and to overcome him."

"Kill him." Natasha countered frankly.

"If it comes to that, then yes, to kill him." Thor found these words left a bitter taste in his mouth. Loki, despite his madness, still held sway over a part of his heart.

"Did you see it too?" Natasha asked looking up from checking Tony's pulse. It was far too rapid and his eyes beneath the lids flickered erratically.

Thor closed his eyes. He could see it even now.

"Yes. I do not wish to speak of it."

"Just like the damn Nazis." Steve shook his head.

Thor removed the remains of tattered, red cape and bundled it up. He handed it to Natasha who placed it under Tony's head.

"Who?" Thor asked leaning against the wall and crossing his arms.

"In my time, the real time I was born in, there was a terrible war. Thousands, upon thousands died on the battle field. I fought in the war. Our enemy, the Nazis, they used tactics of torture that were beyond all humanity. What Loki did to Tony- what he is doing to all of us, it reminds me of them."

Thor knew his knowledge of Earth's history was limited, but he never imagined that humans would be capable of such carnage. Had Jane's goodness and love blinded him the possibility that humans could be capable of a brutality similar to Loki's? Loki _had_ showed him the horror of Tony's weapons. Was Loki right? Thor rubbed his hands against his eyes and shook his head with a grunt. It could not be true.

"Are those magic?" Steve asked pointing to Thor's wrists.

"Yes. Loki must have conjured with a dark magic, which is new to even me to create these. They weaken me. I fear I have been reduced to near to a _meager_ mortal now." Thor said running his hands over the cool metal.

"God forbid." Natasha quipped, not looking up from Tony's body.

Steve cracked a grin and Thor, realizing his gaff, bellowed with laughter. With the bleakness of their situation it was the only defense.

Natasha broke the heavy silence that followed by approaching Thor. Her face was void of emotion.

"Why are you here?" She asked pointedly. Steve's brows furrowed.

"What?" Thor returned taken aback.

"He must have known you would tell us what he wants with us. He wouldn't tell us before, so why did he wait until now?"

"I don't know. I wondered at it myself. Perhaps he simply wanted to make you fearful, but now you know what awaits you, there is no point." Thor said. His gaze remained steadfast on Natasha.

"Or because didn't get the desired reaction." Steve offered.

"How do you mean?" Natasha asked turning from her perusal of Thor. He'd passed her test. She'd feared the worst that he and Loki were working together, but she could see the sincerity in his eyes.

"Maybe Loki wanted something or expected a certain reaction from you when he tortured Tony." Steve indicated to Thor and continued. "When he didn't get it he abandoned his initial plan. Maybe that's why he let you talk to us, because now he wants something else and it doesn't matter if we speak with you or not."

Natasha considered this. It was a good possibility, but Loki was beyond masterful and it could be something else. She needed to figure out his endgame and fast.

"If my brother is after something else, I do not know what it could be." Thor said looking at the ground. His shoulder still ached from the open, lash marks, but the pain in his leg had dulled significantly. He wanted to be rid of the chains on his wrist, to take his beloved hammer in hand and smash this prison to the ground. Nothing enraged him more than the feeling of uselessness.

Steve stood suddenly and walked to the bars and began pulling at them with all his might. They bowed slightly, but not enough for an escape

"Steve?" Natasha wondered if he'd lost it.

Steve turned. His face was red from the effort.

"What? Loki has a plan, right? It's all mapped out for him. I can't just sit here. I won't play by his rules. I'm going to go have a conversation with him."

"That is unwise, my friend." Thor cautioned stepping over to the bars.

"It's called recon, right, Widow?" Steve said tugging at the bars.

"It could be suicide to provoke him, Steve." Natasha replied, rising from Tony's side.

"What else are we going to do? Wait? Wait until, he kills us all? What if that is his new plan? Did you ever wonder that?"

"Of course." She said and after a brief moment stepped back. Steve renewed his efforts on the bars.

"Loki!" Steve yelled. "Loki!"

"Thor, don't." Natasha said as Thor moved to restrain him. Thor looked at her. "He's right. We can't wait here until he kills us. Let him be."

She returned mopping Tony's feverish brow. Thor wandered to the back of the cell, running his hands through his untamed mane.

"Loki!"

Clint's sinewy frame cast a shadow in the dim light outside the bars. He approached the door and unlocked it silently. Steve noticed that his arrows were sheathed and bow shouldered. This was a diplomatic mission. The door opened and Steve stepped out. The door shut swiftly behind, slamming in Thor's face just as he reached it. Thor let out a growl at being thwarted.

Natasha looked up briefly. She wouldn't try to stop Steve. She knew he felt he was responsible for the team. It was a bold move, one he wouldn't have let anyone but himself make. He really was principled to a fault.

"You are putting yourself in danger! You should not face him alone." Thor tugged at the bars.

"He doesn't want to speak to you." Clint said before turning and taking his bow in hand. His hand rested lightly over an arrow; the message was clear.

"Shall we, Cap?" Clint asked cocking his head.

Steve turned and walked obediently into blinding light ahead.

Author: Next chapter Loki will be back in a big way in case anyone was wondering what the heck he was up to and the next few chapters will gradually descend into a darker tone; buckle up ladies and gents. Please review and let me know what you thought. As always thanks for reading!


	7. The Liberator

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters.

Outside the day was heaving final gasps of soft light. The domed room began to darken and the shadows deepened, etching wrinkles in the expansive space. Loki smoothed his hands over the hard, oak arms of his throne. He closed his remarkably green eyes and sighed. There were bruise-like marks beginning to form beneath his eyes and his skin was the color of bone. Casting and holding many complex spells was draining him of energy. He could hold on for a few more days, but then he would lose his grasp. The thought of Thor kept him strong, but it could not sustain him forever. He contemplated the meaning of Thor's defiance. Was he beyond his help or did he simply need more time? Perhaps he needed another example, a stronger case? The echoing of twin footfalls tore him from his revelry.

"Have you come to beg for freedom?" He asked. His tone was that of an indolent lion, comfortable and sated after a hunt.

"No."

Loki's eyes sprung open. Steve stood before him with his blonde hair was disheveled and his shirt was untucked. He looked like a new man, his eyes cold and his stance solid as the stone walls surrounding them. This has been a transformative experience for him already, Loki mused.

"Well perhaps you ought to." he sneered. "And might I suggest doing it on your knees. I really am rather fond of etiquette." Suddenly Clint shoved Steve in the shoulder, hard enough to knock him off balance. Steve turned to retaliate, but halted as the sharp tip of an arrow stabbed at his rib cage. He knelt down. He wasn't here for a fight or a punctured lung, he told himself. Well, not quite yet.

"So now, do tell me what you want, Captain." Loki twirled his staff absentmindedly. The blade made a delightful whistling sound as it slashed through the air.

"I didn't come here to beg for freedom. I came here to offer you an out." Steve said evenly.

Loki stiffened and waved his hand. Clint withdrew to the shadows near the cell to watch and wait. Steve rose to his feet undaunted.

"Interesting. Well, then let this be a proper negotiation." Loki cast his staff over the empty plane between them and a gleaming wooden table appeared. In the torchlight Steve could see text inlaid in gold, but the language was a foreign tongue, he assumed Asguardian. It reminded him of one that his grandfather had in his study, though it lacked the ink well and scuff marks. On either side of the lengthy table were two tall, wingback chairs covered in fine red leather. Loki stood and walked over to one. Before he sat he waved his staff again and his armor melted away leaving a fine suit of black and a deep green tie. Steve was taken aback to see Loki in such understated and ordinary garb. If he had been sitting across from him on the subway he would never have believed he was anything other than human. The effect was both disarming and unsettling. Loki leaned forward in his seat and placed his hands on his knees. He cocked his head to the side indicating Steve to sit. Steve waited a moment. Loki appeared to be unaffected by his bold proposal. He felt unnerved by this sudden display of reason and civility.

"Please, I do wish to hear what it is you propose, Captain Rogers." He motioned Steve to sit, who after a moment of hesitation sat cautiously on the edge of the chair before finally relaxing back. "Now, if you will continue." The torchlight dappled across the table, licking it with shards of light.

What is he playing at? Steve wondered. He hadn't come out here believing that Loki would listen to him. He'd hoped to provoke him into making a misstep and then overpower him. Once again, Loki had countered his move with one of his own. Now Steve's mind whirled trying to figure out the rules of the new game.

"I came here as I said to offer you a chance to surrender. Let us go now and you won't need to fear retaliation from The Avengers or Shield." Loki nodded agreeably and gestured for him to continue. "We will also testify on your behalf to the Asguardian courts and be your advocates there if you want."

"Ah, my advocates, that _is_ generous of you. What do you propose to say in my defense?" Loki said bridging his finger tips and placing his elbows on the table. Steve licked his dry, cracked lips and continued.

"We would say that you cooperated with us in good faith and were simply misguided. I would argue on your behalf for a lighter sentence and see that you got it. You have my word." Steve said confidently. If Loki really did agree to these terms he would have to follow through. When he thought of Tony's scream his stomach churned like a wheel in thick mud, but he had to fight for the welfare of the group. His desire for vengeance would have to come second to his desire for the safety of his team. Natasha would not be pleased.

"So, let me see if I understand your terms." Loki said standing and circling around the corner of the table. The shadows accentuated the depth of his eyes, casting darkness where they should have been. He looked skeletal. "You propose to assist me at my trial in Asguard, in exchange for the freedom of yourself and your team?"

Loki was now standing at Steve's arm. Steve felt discomfort crawling up his legs urging him to stand; he detested being looked down on by Loki. He leaned forward to rise and suddenly Loki's fingertips were snatching the air from his windpipe. Steve's hands instinctively went to his neck trying to pry the hands off.

"Now, now, Captain. I have questions for you. Do be generous with your time, as I have been so patient in listening to your proposal." Loki threw Steve back into the seat. Steve gasped and coughed. Loki cast with his staff and chains spooled around Steve's wrists and waist. He tossed and kicked against the binds.

"I'm sorry to say Captain, but I must refuse your offer. You see I am not misguided." He walked casually behind Steve and ruffled his hair playfully. Steve shook his hand off, his face burning with rage. "It is you who is deluding yourself. The government experiment, the freak; did you really think that you could be taken seriously, that you could lead? My own brother, deceived as he is, is at least of noble birth. You are the son of no one. _You_ are no one."

Loki twisted the chair away from the table and clamped his hands on Steve's wrists imprinting the chain links into his tanned skin.

"Now, to my question and please know that the answer could save the lives of your teammates."

Steve efforts to escape were quelled at his words.

"Do I have you attention?"

"I'm listening." Steve said through clenched teeth.

"You have been on the battlefield before, isn't that right? They call you Captain. I understand this to be a high honor for your kind."

Steve inclined his head.

"So you know that in war certain sacrifices must be made, for the good of the whole. I myself learned this when I was taught the art of combat as a child. So this is my proposition to you."

From within his tailored suit, Loki withdrew a crude, metal weapon. Steve knew it well. The aptly named FP-45 Liberator. It looked like it had been constructed from scrape car parts; the gun had been popular in WWII. It was a single shot weapon that the army mass produced and handed out to courageous resistance fighters in occupied regions. Steve had remembered seeing it for the first time; he'd thought it was a cheap toy.

"What do you want from me?"

"I want you to use it." Loki said. "Choose one of your men or woman, and use it. If you kill one of them I will release the rest. Refuse this offer and I will see that you live for a long time wishing for death."

"You know I'll never do that! You know I would never hurt them. I don't care what you do to me. I don't care, but I will never do that." Steve nearly jumped to his feet before recalling the chains.

Loki took aim with the gun. Steve bit the inside of his cheek to keep a scream from boiling over his lips. He closed his eyes and pictured Peggy one last time. I'll be home soon, he thought.

"No. It will demonize me. No, I will not sully my hands. That is what you wish for, to portray me as a monster. I am not a monster. I wish to save my brother, to bring him back into the fold of my people. That is not the intension of a monster."

Steve's eyes opened and he sagged into the chains.

"You're insane." Steve breathed.

"If you won't kill them then, beg for them." Loki dug his nails hard into Steve's wrists until he drew blood. The tip of his cold, pale nose touched Steve's. "Beg for their lives and I may spare them."

"Please don't-" Steve strained against the chains. Sweat dripped off his brow and stung his eyes.

Loki laughed.

"My former offer still stands. I will give you a day to consider. In the meantime, I will provide you some incentive to cooperate. Consider their blood on your hands." Loki stepped back and removed a handkerchief from his coat pocket wiping Steve's blood off his nails. He snapped his fingers and Clint left his position at the wall. He headed single-mindedly toward the cell.

"No. Loki! There's no point to this! Thor will never listen because there is no truth to what you claim. Humans are not evil. You are the evil one!" Screaming gave him a false sense of empowerment. His heart wilted with heavy despair. He could not stand to see anyone harmed on his account. Why had he not just stayed in the cell? Why did he act so arrogantly and rashly? Thor had been right, yet now his teammate would suffer. A sudden, stormy commotion was heard from the other room. Thor roared loudly.

"Thor!" Natasha yelled a warning. This was followed by more inarticulate shouting, the sound of a melee and then a sudden, weighty silence ensued. Steve held his breath and closed his eyes. What if they had succeeded in overcoming Clint and had escaped through the other door? He hoped they could run faster than Loki's specters.

"I don't think you'll want to see this Captain." Loki said and two specters materialized on either side of Steve. The chains dissolved and Steve jumped to his feet. He hit the first specter before it had time to react, sending it crashing into the tabletop. The second one was more prepared and swung at Steve who caught a bit of the blow on his chin before recovering. A flash of light encompassed Steve's vision, followed by a deafening crack. Steve hit the ground with a graceless thud. His eyes were open but his limbs were paralyzed by Loki's spell. He lay on the floor beside the table. Loki's shining black shoes entered his field of vision.

"Did you not learn anything from before? I will give you a day to consider what I have said. Tell the others and I will see none of you live through the night." The specters each grasped a heavy arm and hoisted Steve up. His useless feet dragged on the ground. As he was pulled away he saw Clint, Natasha, Thor and two more specter's enter.

Clint shoved forward a limping Natasha. She was conscious, but Steve noted blood dripping from a cut above her eye and there was a deep gash in her right knee that resulted in a mild drag. She kept her head high and defiant; her eyes didn't leave Loki.

"Was that roughness necessary, Clint?" Loki chided teasingly.

"I kind think roughness is always necessary if you want to have a little fun. Don't you?" Clint returned.

Loki arched a dark brow.

"Yes, as a matter of fact I do." He said and smiled.

Author: Anyone who expected this chapter to be like 'Turn of the Screw' and was disappointed, sorry, but this needed to be written to move the plot forward. As I said, things are getting grim and will continue to do so. Please, please review. Thanks for reading!


	8. The Fix

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters.

Author: I apologize for the wait. This chapter may even be a three-parter, but I wanted to post something so people didn't think I'd quit. I didn't by the way. Enjoy.

Natasha did not look at Steve as he dragged away. She did not watch as the specters bound Thor to a chair on the far side of the hall. She concentrated on Clint's hand on her forearm and shoulder; the strength of his steadfast and knowing fingers pressing her deeper into the cavernous chamber. She took comfort in the familiar feeling of his calloused hands and the sureness with which he commanded his strength. Without seeing his vacuous blue eyes she could imagine it was her partner, the Clint she knew and trusted; for a moment at least.

Clint abruptly shoved her forward. Blood from the wound on her left eyebrow momentarily obscured the room in a vicious red canopy. She blinked to clear it and wiped the stinging cut with the back of her hand.

Standing in the center of the room she felt exposed. She was used to being hunched in the shadows, cloaked by night's shroud. In the center of the room, heavily punctuated by torches, she seemed to have no escape from the light.

Clint brushed passed her and took his place at Loki's side. He smirked at her in a satisfied way that reminded her of Loki. It was good. She needed to remember that Loki was the one controlling him. Though his hands were familiar, he was a marionette for Loki's black diversions.

"Was that roughness necessary, Clint?" Loki asked, seating himself in the posh throne.

""I kind think roughness is always necessary if you want to have a little fun. Don't you?" Clint returned good-naturedly.

Clint was always making smart-ass comments at the least opportune moments to break the tension. Usually Natasha found it a comfort to see that no matter how bad she thought it was, there was no situation in which Clint couldn't make a joke. But in the moment it made her stomach roll. He was in there. If he could retain his sense of humor, then his heart was in there as well. He was not a husk, and empty vessel, below the surface _he_ was still inside. She remembered when he'd seemed to have shaken the spell earlier. Could he see her now?

"Yes, as a matter of fact I do." Loki said his eyes sweeping over Natasha's enduring form. He smiled at her fortitude. He did enjoy that something so frail could appear so strong.

He took languid, measured steps toward her and did not stop until he was closed enough for his breath to tremble the wild curls on top of her head. She looked up at him defiantly, daring him to make his next move.

She nearly flinched when he raised his hand to her face and traced the abrasion on her forehead. His fingertips withdrew coated in red.

"You humans are so breakable." He sighed.

"Is that what you brought me out here for?" She asked. Her lips were a harsh line and they ached from the tension of withholding her fear and anger. She has asked the question without the least bit of apprehension. She almost rather he got out the rack and started the show right now. If he was going to do it she just wanted it to happen quickly. She hated waiting; waiting was the most painful part.

"No." Loki smiled and brushed his blood stained hand through her hair. Without warning, his fingers locked. He yanked her head to the side and before she realized it she was on the ground. Pain burst over her back in a seething wave. Before she could swing at Loki, he drew his staff and placed it threateningly over her left breast. Panic seeped into her at the sight of the weapon. She twisted even as his hand held firmly to her hair and his knee pinned her legs. She'd never expected Loki do this. The closeness, the personal nature of the actions caught her off guard. He didn't fight with his hands. He used magic from a distance; there was no need for this intimate style of fighting. He had chosen this; his closeness, the press of his body was a weapon in and of itself to frighten her. Clint must have told him everything about her past. It made her blood cook in her veins.

"Sh-sh. Hush." He released her hair but lightly pressed the staff into her heaving chest. His long fingers coursed over her cheek with the tenderness of a lover. She shook with rage, but refused to speak, to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much he'd gotten to her.

"You have always been by yourself, have you not? Never letting anyone close, never letting anyone inside."

Natasha stared past him into the exposed jet black sky at the center of the dome.

Loki lowered his mouth down to hear ear and she felt his moist lips graze the shell of her ear.

"I can fix that."

She choked out a breath. She never wanted to kill anyone so badly in her life.

Loki pressed the staff and conjured a spell. There was no time for Natasha to scream. She blinked once and her eyes flashed a brilliant, icy blue. She was no longer alone.

Thor had feared that his brother had killed her until he saw her wide eyes blazing with an unnatural fire. His heart ached for her. As he looked into her pale, emotionless face he knew Loki had enslaved her.

"Loki! Free her and Barton. They have souls! Can you not see this? How are you so very blind brother?" Thor asked. "How can you claim to be showing me the evil of humans when _you_ enslave them? "

Loki stood and offered Natasha a hand. She took it.

"Thank you." She said brushing her hair from her face. Loki chuckled lightly; he had tamed the lioness with hardly any effort. Even the strongest willed humans took to slavery with ease; it was comfortable for them. It pleased him immensely to be proven right.

"You may sit." He offered graciously and she compliantly took the leather seat Steve had formerly occupied.

Loki slowly turned to back to Thor. Thor noticed that he seemed more drained than just moments before. Perhaps the use of magic was affecting him after all.

"Is she hurt? Did I maim her? I have done nothing to harm her. She is kinder and more amiable than before." Loki nearly dropped into his throne and rubbed his temples. Thor's continued stupidity was tedious.

"No. Loki, taking her free will from her is wrong. Humans are wonderful creatures because they have the capacity to reason and choose." Thor said earnestly.

Loki stared at the ground for a moment, contemplating Thor's argument. Anger flared in his chest; the flame was insistent and consuming.

"Brother, I will show you the burden of free will. These human's suffer everyday as a result of this freedom. It is like an adder in their hands, at any moment it will turn itself on its master and poison them." Loki looked up fondly at Clint who stood patiently beside him. He raised the staff to Clint's chest and conjured.

For the first time in days, Clint breathed free air.

Author: Check back for part 2/3 soon and yeah, that's where it's going to be getting kind of scary, so Pilgrims consider yourselves warned. I hope you all enjoyed it. Please review. Thanks so much for reading!


	9. The Fix Part 2

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters.

Clint's brain felt like a sputtering engine. He tried to get purchase of his surroundings, to stop the frenetic spin, but quickly toppled forward onto his hands and knees. Pain shot through his wrists. His vision continued to spin like he was riding a runaway merry-go-round.

"Fucking hell." He breathed as he closed his eyes to shut out the warm, dancing light of the torches. He pressed the heel of his palms into his eye until his vision was washed in red.

A chain rankled in the distance. His spine stiffened but he did not remove his hands from his eyes. He remembered being imprisoned in his mind all too well. He wondered if everyone's mind had chains made of barbwire or if it was just his. His heart raced at the memory of fighting those razor bonds. He didn't know how many times he's slit his wrist, but never died. The blood congealed and stuck his fingers together like paste.

"Is this the part where you hurt me some more?" Clint asked. Not bothering to open his eyes. He could sense Loki close. Ever since he'd been controlled by him, Clint had a sixth sense about Loki. He wasn't sure if Loki knew, or intended it, but he assumed it was not on purpose. He got a creeping feeling, almost like an itch in his brain whenever Loki was near. He'd first felt it the night when he and Natasha were taken, just moments before. They'd been sitting together in the living room and he'd got a sudden nervous feeling, like tiny push-pins were raking over his scalp. At the time he didn't have anything to connect it to, but when Loki appeared, he knew he'd been sensing is presence. How Loki's spell gave him this precognition, he didn't know, but the idea that they were somehow inexorably tied made Clint feel ill.

"I'm not really one for sentiment you know, but I will say Agent Barton, I rather missed you."

"The feeling isn't mutual." Clint looked up wryly. Loki sat in an sumptuous throne across from him. Clint noted that he looked thinner than before. Being an evil son of a bitch must take its toll, Clint mused.

"Her mind isn't nearly as chaotic. It's rather sterile in fact, all marble and hard lines." Loki said twirling his staff casually.

Clint looked to his left and saw Natasha siting rigidly in a large leather chair at the end of a long mahogany table. Her eyes were unfocused and a startling cobalt. Clint kept his face blank. He knew Loki was watching him and he'd surely relish the slightest sign of distress or anger that Clint showed.

"She's Russian, so that's not all that surprising." Clint shot back. He noted on the far left of the room Thor was chained and a metal gag obscured much of his jaw and mouth. He remembered seeing him before in his mind, when Loki was controlling him. Clint flexed his hand into a tight fist. It was sore. He suddenly recalled the tussle in the cell between Natasha, Thor and him. His brow furrowed and guilt began to bloom in him, pushing the air from his lungs with a huff. He had to suppress it, now was not the time.

"So what is this all about?" Clint asked pushing himself to his feet. His body ached as if he'd been sleeping for years on a bed of ice.

"I have a question." Loki said, the staff continued its monotonous twirling.

Guess I have no choice but to play along, Clint thought.

"Shoot." He said. He didn't like this, but what choice did he have. He moved to the seat on the opposite end of the table from Natasha. He didn't spare another glance in her direction, but kept his eyes firmly trained on Loki. Clint took a seat in the leather chair. No point in not getting comfortable he figured he may be here for a while.

Loki enjoyed Clint's boldness, but he'd enjoy breaking him of it even more.

"Are you ease?" Loki asked when Clint had settled.

"Like a pig in shit." Clint said, though he sat on the edge of the chair and didn't relax back. He was ready for a fight if need be. "So?"

"There is a memory I can never see. I've had you under my control twice now. Yet, both times there is a memory you refuse to tell me. No matter what I do to try to coerce you or unlock it, I cannot. So now, I've released you from my control so that you can tell me."

Clint almost laughed. He liked the idea of Loki not getting what he wanted.

"Let me get this right. You used mind control on me and you didn't get an answer, so you thought you'd give me back my free will so that I would tell you myself? Are you out of your fucking mind? What would possibly make you think that would work?"

The staff suddenly stopped and Loki took Clint's quiver of arrow from beside his throne. Clint watched him vigilantly, poised to attack. Loki approached Natasha who turned to him expectantly. Clint placed his hands on the table, his thumbs digging into the soft wood of the underside. With gentlemanly courtesy, Loki offered her an arrow.

"What are you-?"

Before Clint could finish his question, Natasha took an arrow and thrust it into the open palm of her right hand. The force of her arm pushed the arrow through her hand and embedded the head into the red leather. Her body bowed for a moment at the sudden blow, but she made no sound. Clint could see the color drain from her face.

"So will you tell me now?"

Clint shook his head. He couldn't take seeing her hurt like this, but he need to keep some part of himself from Loki's grasp. He felt like a shell already. He didn't want to give up the last stich of himself. They'd trained for this, for people using them against each other, but seeing the blood pulsing out of her white skin was worse than he could have imagined. Clint heard Thor's chains clatter as he pressed against them. Clint looked in the Asguardian's eyes and saw both concern and the slightest hint of anger. Thor surely could not understand why Clint would allow this to happen to her, rather than tell a simple story. But it was all Clint had. It was the last vestige of secrecy in his soul that had not been tainted by Loki's curiosity.

"Very well." Loki replied tersely. Natasha drew another arrow.

"Wait, no!"

Loki and Natasha simultaneously turned to him, the puppet and its master Clint thought bitterly.

"You can't- Don't make her do this."

"Yes, you're right. I ought to help, seeing as she's one hand down." Loki drew and arrow and thrust it into her left bicep. This time Clint could her suck in a lungful of breath. Her head jerked back and eyes watered.

"You fucker!" Clint rose from his seat, but stopped short of jumping over the table when he saw Loki place another arrow against the soft hallow of Natasha's throat.

"Now, shall we have a civilized conversation Agent Barton?"

Author: A close friend's father died recently, so sorry I've been out of commission this week. This is not the chapter I wanted to write, its only about half of what I have in mind, so sorry if it feels inconclusive, but I will finish part 3 asap. Please review. Thanks so much for reading!


	10. Firsts

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters.

Author: As I noted before, I'm basing this off the movie. Most other character background is my invention, just a heads up.

Loki watched Clint crumple like a leaf at the sight of his arrows embedded in Natasha's ivory skin. Blood ran down her arm and sweat appeared on her brow, but she was silent. She was his silent pupil, just like Thor and he had so much to teach them. But first thing was first. Agent Barton stood beside the table; his hands were balled so tightly it seemed at any moment his bones might rupture through the knuckles.

Good, Loki thought, I've made myself clear.

"Won't you have a seat?" Loki gestured to the chair Clint had knocked over in his haste to defend Natasha.

"No."

"I insist." Loki said twirling an arrow idly. Clint didn't see it as an absentminded action, it was a message. Sit down or I'll us this arrow to open her up.

Clint relented and begrudgingly righted the tumbled chair.

"Now to my question," Loki began as Clint sat discontentedly. "I've asked you it I don't know how many times. Do you not recall it yourself? I know I allowed you to retain a vague memory of what you did while you're in my power."

"If you want me to answer any of your questions, then move away from her and take the arrows with you." Clint demanded.

Loki took a moment to consider his request then leisurely meandered back to his throne. As he passed, Clint noticed flecks of blood on his evergreen coat. It was her blood. Clint squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. This was his worst nightmare, being helpless to save her. He'd never told her because he knew she'd hate it, but he couldn't help feeling responsible for her given their past. He didn't delude himself that he was some sort of messiah to her, but he knew he'd given her a second chance. Still, that second chance came with risks.

Loki swept his coattails to the side and sat on his throne. He eyed Clint for a moment then cast with his spell. A glass of water appeared before Clint.

"What is this? A peace offering?" Clint eyed the glass with suspicion, but his mouth yearned for cool relief.

"I don't know anything about peace offerings, but since you will be speaking at length, I thought you may want something to drink. " Loki conjured again and a glass of water appeared in his own hand.

"To your health, Agent Barton." He raised his glass and took a long drink.

Clint knew it wasn't a trick, Loki already had him where he wanted him, but he detested the idea of taking anything from Loki. The water beaded down the side of the glass and his head swam. He needed to be able to think, if he was going to get out of this and there was no way to do that if he passed out. He took the glass in his hand and drank it down at once.

"Are you ready Agent Barton?" Loki asked leaning forward almost imperceptibly. He was so filled with curiosity at what had been hidden from his magic. At first considered, breaking Clint's skull open and picking the answer out by hand. That was always option B, but he felt that Barton could be reasoned with given the right encouragement. With his partner pinned to a chair by his own arrows, her blood beginning to change the color of her blue jeans into a deep burgundy, he felt confident Clint would tell him whatever he wanted to know.

"Yes." Clint replied firmly.

"Do you know which one it is?" Loki asked.

Clint had known the moment Loki had asked. How could he forget? When Loki had been unable to extract his answer from simple questioning, he'd entered Clint's mind. Clint shuddered as he remembered Loki's specter's use of a whip made of twined barbwire. His back was completely devoid of skin by the end, the ribbons of slick muscle exposed to the cool air. The blood tickled as it dripped down into the hollows of his knees. There was no relief. When he struggled to get away the barbwire on his wrist dug deeper, opening his veins again and again. Still, Loki questioned him relentlessly.

Clint could tell it was not something Loki reveled in; it was simply a means to an end. Loki wasn't even able to meets Clint's eyes when he had finally resigned due to exhaustion. Clint sensed he may have even been ashamed of himself, but Loki wanted his answer. He used whatever tactics necessary to achieve his desired endgame.

Clint nodded.

"Then you will tell me now?"

"Yes. I was in the bathroom of my dump of trailer. I was fourteen years old. I'd been traveling and preforming for the circus for five years at that point. I lived with Big John, his name was really Roger White, but everyone called him Big John, I guess it was just easier. He was the closest thing I had to family, took me in when I was nine and on the lam from a foster home." Clint shifted uncomfortably and glanced at Natasha.

"She doesn't know?" Loki asked intrigued.

Clint silence was enough confirmation.

"She can't hear you."

"But when I was-"

"I _chose_ to let you see what you did. I choose to not let her see this. She is as good as sleeping right now. She'll never know."

Clint cracked his knuckles and looked over at Thor.

"I won't remove him and you have no choice in that matter." Loki said with finality. Thor furrowed his brow and Loki put up his hand to silence any protestations. Then with a blink he was gone.

Loki suddenly appeared behind Thor and placed a hand on his shoulder. "In time brother you will see that everything I do has a purpose. This too is part of the lesson, so listen carefully." Thor heard Loki's voice whisper in his ear. Then suddenly he melted into air like breath on a frozen window pane.

Loki reappeared in the center of the room.

"Now Agent Barton, do continue." He beckoned warmly.

Clint looked at the ground below Natasha's chair and saw that red was beginning to paint the legs and trickle onto the floor. There was no more time to hesitate.

"The night that you're asking about I kissed a woman for the first time. She was older than me and it wasn't love for her, but it was for me. I loved her. That's what the memory is about. That's why I won't tell you about it. It is one of the few good memories I have and I try to keep it to myself for that reason."

Loki's face dropped.

"Agent Barton, I cannot express my disappointment in you enough. Do you really think I am a fool? Do you want her to die, fastened to that chair by your own weapons? Don't you think I chose my weapon well? It is rather poetic I will say."

"You wouldn't-"

"I do enjoy her very much, her hardened placidity, but don't think I will hesitate to let her die before you. Now, tell me the memory or I will put the remains of your quiver to good use."

Clint set his jaw. There was no turning back.

"It was my first kiss. I was fourteen. I'd been living with Big John for a year or so. He was a boozer and he got mean when he was all gassed up on liquor."

"He hurt you." Loki asked. His eyes seemed to glint in the torch's flickering light.

"He laid his hands on me every so often. It wasn't personal; he was blind drunk, but yeah. I'd been hit by adults before."

"So what happened?" Loki asked, his voice impassive.

Clint shook his head and hand his hands over his sandy hair.

"I can't-"

The torches began to dim.

"You don't have to say it. You can show me." Loki said gesturing with his scepter. The room fell into sudden darkness. Clint tried to move, but it was as if the blackness was a heavy, velvet cage laid over top of him. He was pressed back into the chair and his lungs struggled for breath.

In the corner of the room there was a breath of light. It was a dingy, caramel colored haze that flicked to life and exposed the inside of filthy, cramped bathroom.

Loki appeared suddenly beside him. Thor's chains clinked just a few feet away. Clint could sense Thor's unease.

"Let go and show me Clint and this will all be over." Loki said placing a soothing hand on Clint's chest. The weight of the hand brought air flowing into his lungs. Clint breathed deeply. He saw there was only one choice to end this. Comply with Loki's request or suffocate.

Clint let go. The light grew and illuminated more of the room beyond that crack in the bathroom door. In the next room there was a large man. He was dressed in a sloppy pair of jeans with patches on the knee and a shirt stained with a variety of browns. There was a hole worn in the left armpit that exposed knotted, kinky black hair. His face was red and long, but angular. Beside him was a woman. She must have been at least twenty years his junior. She was dressed in a juvenile, ruffled skirt, but she was clearly at least ten years too old to be wearing it. Her face was painted in painfully garish blues and pinks, but despite all that she had pleasing features. They spoke, but no words could be heard, though their bodies explained what was going on well enough. Abruptly the man's face twisted into dark angry lines. He seemed to be shouting. The girl shot up off the couch.

Clint closed his eyes. He didn't need to see it again. He never wanted to think of it again.

"Then you came in?" Loki asked. A slender finger tipped Clint's head up to meet his eyes. Clint swallowed.

"Yes."

A young boy entered the room, bursting through the bathroom door and standing stock still for a moment in the living room. He was frozen by the scene in front of him, chilled in horror from the inside out. It was too much for him. The images came to him fragmented like polaroid photos. The man on top of the girl, the shards of glass from the broken table, the ripped underwear caught around an exposed thigh, the blue streaks on her cheeks from the brash makeup mixed with hot tears, the phone cord like a cheap necklace around her throat.

Then something snapped. The boy acted and there was blood speckled on the girl's face. A gurgling and thrashing. The boy stabbed, stabbed, stabbed. His lungs sucked air. He didn't stop until there was pulp instead of a face. He fell to his knees and sunk his curled fists into the warm blood that's begun to pool and felt no remorse. The boy leaned down and placed a chaste kiss on the girl's lips. The first girl he'd ever loved. The first dead girl he'd ever seen.

Before he can cry he gets to his feet. He lights the burners in the kitchen and leaves to go have a smoke. He lights the trailer on fire and walks to the highway by the light of the moon.

"I see." Loki said.

Unbidden tears slide down Clint's face.

"I see."

Author: Wondering why this is so important to Loki? You'll find out soon enough. Please send me a review if you liked it. Thanks for reading!


	11. Walkin' My Baby Back Home

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters.

Author: I will return to Loki, but I need a breather. So for now here is a dream...

He'd been here before. Steve looked down the empty street. The moon spilled silver light over the trees that lined the sidewalks, making them look like they were covered in a sheen of frost. The green leaves seemed to shine in the light. He'd been here many times before in his dreams. It was a vacant, ordinary small-town street. The houses had the regularity of soldiers standing at attention in neat rows. Their doors were green, navy and red. There was no divergence from this standard. The sameness of the houses was equal parts comforting and oppressive. Each house was caged by pristine picket fences. They're posts jutted up from the ground like sharp teeth. This was the country he'd known.

Steve sighed ruefully. He didn't want to do this again. He loathed this dream. The twist was always the same, but it never stopped him from waking up with tears blurring his vision. He didn't need Loki to play with his mind to torture him; Steve's mind had done it by itself since he'd woken up from the ice.

Like clockwork the bus appeared on the end of the street. Its headlight temporarily blinded him. He shielded his eyes. The breath in his lungs escaped as he heard the click of heels on the blacktop. It was her.

"Have a nice evening."

His chest ached at the sweet sound of her voice and his cheeks flushed slightly remembering her lips on his.

Peggy.

The bus doors hissed closed and it lumbered toward Steve with a mechanical groaning. Steve shook his head. He couldn't go through this again; he couldn't reopen the wound again.

What if I stepped in front of the bus? He wondered. Would I wake up?

Maybe that was the answer. Maybe he should step in front of the bus.

As the hulking vehicle approached and Steve placed himself in its path, his shoulder's tensed in anticipation of impact. There was no horn of warning. The bus would not stop. But then Steve heard the nearby clip-clop of heels on pavement. No matter how much he hated it he had to see her. Even just to see her from afar as she passed beneath the moon's gaze. He threw himself on the sidewalk just as the bus stormed past.

Steve rolled over and got to his feet. He began to run. He'd be fast enough this time. This time wouldn't be like all the other times. He'd get to her before it was too late.

He followed the even fall of her footsteps. When he turned the corner he could see her walking down the main street pass the Food and Drug Store. Her hips swayed lazily and her hair fell in soft, auburn corkscrews.

He had to see her face just once more.

Steve ran after her, but she was always a block ahead striding casually through the crisp night air. Still, he ran. He ran until his shoeless feet were bruised and scrapped, until his undershirt was pasted by sweat to his body. As they rounded the crosswalk of Main Street he couldn't contain himself anymore.

"Peggy! Please don't! Don't go down that road!"

She stood still for a moment and then spoke.

"Don't follow me."

Desperation drained the color from Steve's face.

"It's Steve. You know me. You know me better than anyone. Please turn around and look at me."

Still, she did not move but took a deep breath and shook her head.

"I don't want to know you. You let me die alone."

"No! Peggy please."

She continued on her path. Steve in his brain consumed with sorrow rushed blindly forward and missed the curb. He tumbled to the ground. The bone on his elbow gave a resounding crack and his stomach clenched. From his place on the ground he could see her passing in between the shadows of the trees. There was still time.

Holding his elbow close to his torso gingerly Steve set off down the sidewalk. His lungs stung as he sucked in cold ether.

"Peggy!"

She stood on the other side of the street. Before her was a pair of massive, wrought iron bars.

"You're too late." She said and began to hum softly. The doors swung open and she entered without sparing a glance back at Steve.

"Peggy."

Steve ran, his limbs careening towards the gate without hesitation. The bars were beginning to close slowly, but he was still so far. Steve lurched into the gate at nearly full speed just as the lock clicked shut. He stumbled back. Blood muddled his vision, his forehead bleeding from the impact of the bars.

She was nowhere to be seen. A cry that was one part animal, one part child rippled through Steve. He crumpled into a ball and pounded his fist into the pavement. Beyond the gate the headstones were like the houses with the picket fences, uniform and cold. Her name was etched into one of those stones and the woman he'd know was no more. Once again he was too late.

Steve lay on the pavement letting himself sink into the cold. Suddenly the silence around him was cut like a white, silk ribbon. He thought for a moment it was his own cry, but when it came a second time he knew he was not the owner.

Steve's eyes blinked open and he sat up with a start. He looked around the cell for the source of the noise until his eyes lit on the figure curled on the ground.

Tony was awake.

Author: I'm going to get back to the storyline with Clint's memory soon, but I just felt like it'd been a long time since Steve and Tony had been heard from so they'll be in the next chapter a bit too. Please review. Thank you for reading.


	12. The Trenches

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters.

Author: So, I'm back.

Tony clawed at his neck and chest, trying futilely to remove some phantom grasp. A low moan escaped his lips. Steve crossed the cell without a moment's more hesitation. He'd heard men make that sound before, on the battlefield you heard men make sounds they'd never dare make in regular society. The screams, the groans were all too shameful, but in the trenches no one judged you. A solider needn't feel embarrassed in front of his comrade.

Tony jerked violently when Steve placed a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Tony. Tony wake up; it's a dream." Steve said keeping a resolute hand on his friend. Tony's fingers balled into tight, shaking fists.

"Tony!" Steve swiftly pulled Tony to the side and barked into his ear like his CO had done to him in basic.

Tony's soft brown eye fluttered open, swimming for a moment as he tried to make sense of the scene. After a moment he closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Steve's hand never left his arm.

"I'm glad you're back." Steve said brushing a blonde lock from his vision. Tony opened his eyes and looked up at him. He seemed so venerable.

"Yeah, well, that makes one of us. Although, considering the alternative, I guess I prefer the cell too." Tony quipped, but his hands continued to shake visibly.

"Do you-" Steve began and then stopped himself. He needed to let Tony get ahold of himself before he pressed him for any information.

Tony slowly turned on his side and pushed himself up until he was sitting upright. As he scooted back toward the cell wall Steve couldn't help but notice how Tony's head seemed to loll just slightly to the side, as if he was still too weak to hold it up. Steve repressed the urge to help him; he could tell Tony's pride was injured enough for one day. When he was settled against the wall Tony sighed deeply.

"I make things that kill people and while I like to think that good hearted soldiers like yourself are the ones who use them, use them for good, that isn't always the case. I've always known that, but now I've felt it." Tony's hands hadn't stopped quaking and he brought them in front of his face as if fascinated by how his emotions manifested physically without his bidding.

Steve didn't know what to say. He knew Tony was a good person at heart and he couldn't judge him for his past mistakes; God knew he had his own flaws.

"Loki just wanted to hurt you. You're a –"

"No." Tony said with cold vehemence. "No, I killed that boy. I did it. I killed soldiers just like you with the weapons I built. So, no, don't tell me I'm a good person at heart. You don't fucking know me at all."

Steve nodded. Now was not the time to try to reason with Tony, the wound that Loki's magic had inflicted was still too fresh.

Tony waited for a moment for Steve to object, when he saw he had reached Steve he turned his head to the side and closed his eyes. There were more pressing matters at hand than the fate of his soul. Besides, the last person he'd want to discuss it with was the Captain. He knew Steve meant well, but where was Natasha or Bruce when you need them? Where were the flawed fuck-ups with scars and guilty consciences? Steve was a great leader because in everything he did he strove to do good, but Tony was pretty sure he couldn't understand what he was going through in the least.

"Where are the others?" Tony said breaking the weighty silence.

Steve looked toward the shadows on the other side of the far cell door. The hair on the nape of Tony's neck prickled as the mangled boy appeared momentarily in his mind's eye. He didn't want to think of what Loki was doing to the others. He knew Natasha and Clint together had enough skeleton's in their closets to form an army.

"Shit." Tony breathed rubbing his hands over his lightly stubble chin.

"Yeah."

"How long?"

"I don't know. It's sort of difficult to gauge time in this place."

Tony nodded; he understood that from when he had been held captive in the past.

"Have you heard anything?" Tony asked. He meant "Have you heard any screaming?" But felt like that was implied at this point.

Steve put his face in his hands.

"Honestly, I fell asleep, just drifted off. I don't think I was out long, but like I said it's hard to tell in here."

A smirk split across Tony's face.

"Well, I'll be damned, sleeping on the job. Don't they demote you for that kind of thing? Watch out or we'll be calling you Private America soon."

Steve laughed softly. He welcomed Tony's ribbing; it was a sign that he was not totally broken by whatever Loki had done to him.

"Have you seen Loki since I've been out?" Tony asked crossing his legs like a third grader, the pose was a bizarre and hilarious contrast to the tailored dress shirt and slacks he had on.

Suddenly Steve remembered the Liberator and Loki's bargain. Steve's face paled significantly.

"I'll take that as a yes." Tony said. "So?"

Steve took in Tony's drawn face for a moment. He was relieved to see his friend was not broken, but how much more could he take? This was Steve's burden to carry, no one else's. He alone had to decide what was right.

"I just tried and failed to reason with Loki."

"It's ok, Cap, not everyone has my powers of persuasion."

Steve smiled and stood. His body ached from the cold floor. He looked at Tony for a moment. An image of Tony with his skull fragmented and the scalp partially torn off from the force of a bullet abruptly flashed in his mind's eye. Steve's breath hitched and he turned quickly and walked to the opposite end of the cell. He rested his forehead against the bars. A cold sweat broke over his forehead.

Was he capable of killing one of his own teammates? With all his heart he wanted to be free of this cell and the burden of being the man he had become. What good was his strength if it had led him to this place? He would rather have been some nobody who died in anonymity than this symbol, this figurehead. He couldn't live up to his own name. Loki had made him see this. Fear and anger swelled and tangled in his chest. He knocked his head against the bars in frustration. Peggy was right, he was too late. He was too late to save his friends and too late to save himself.

Steve heard footsteps approaching the opposite door.

"Captain." Tony said, breaking Steve from his thoughts.

Steve took in a huge lungful of ether and prepared himself. He turned.

The sight of his haggard, bloodied figures standing just beyond the bars of the cell made his jaw tighten with ire and ice pool in his gut.

Author: Sorry all, I've been working on a show and not been writing as diligently. I see about 5/7 more chapters before I get to the end, but I need to know that people are still reading/want me to finish, otherwise there is little point. Anyhow, if you do I'll try to update by the end of the week. Thanks for reading!


	13. The Fix Part 3

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters.

Update note: You may want to reread the beginning of "The Fix", which I recently edited and updated. I think my edits will help to clarify what was going on.

Author: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS VIOLENCE AND SEXUALITY. If you are extremely sensitive or have had past experience with these types of events, please read at your own discretion. Also, I want to thank all of the people who responded that they were still reading- your support was overwhelming and helped me to write this very long chapter that I've been wrestling with. Thank you!

"I see." Loki said.

The torchlight slowly strengthened and the image of Clint' memory began to fade. Thor breathed a cold lungful of air. His eyes remained transfixed on the dissolving picture of a young Clint walking in solitude toward a distant road. He had been instructed in the art of war since he was young, but he had not killed a man until he was of age, Clint had been a mere child. Still, he understood why, hurting a woman in that way is an unforgivable crime. Thor shook his head as visions of Lady Sif appeared in his mind's eye. Her desire to fight had gotten her into more than one dire situation where her honor was at stake. That was why Thor was more critical of her than any of his fellow warriors. She needed to be stronger than any of them because she had more to lose than life.

Thor watched as Clint slowly sunk to his knees and covered his face with his hands. He wanted to go to him to assure him in some way, but the chains prevented him. He hammered his fists into the arms of the chair in frustration.

Loki did not acknowledge Thor's struggle, but instead placed a hand on Clint's stooped head.

"It isn't your fault. You had to kill him." Loki said softly.

"I did." Clint replied, his voice muffled by his hands.

"It must have been awful to kill the man you loved like a father, the man who raised you and taught you so much, who guided you to your vocation as an archer." Loki smoothed Clint's hair. "I understand you now, why you're so afraid of love."

Clint's head snapped up and he fixed Loki with a riveting glare. He rose and paced toward Natasha. "I gave you what you wanted, now let her go."

"I'm not satisfied yet, Agent Barton." Loki said firmly.

"Frankly, I don't give a fuck. Let her go."

"Not until I am finished with you. You see, Agent Barton, you are a parable: your life serves as an essential lesson. You humans prize your precious free will, but are you liberated? " Loki gestured with his staff towards Natasha's pinned body. Clint couldn't tell if she looked paler than before or if his mind was just playing tricks on him. He knelt beside her, but she ignored him and continued to stare ahead.

"She's bled a lot; you need to let her go."

"Are you truly free?"

"What?"

"Agent Barton, answer me."

Clint pushed the heels of his palms into his eyes and rubbed until he saw red.

"Yes. I'm fucking free except when a piece of shit like you decides to play games with my head."

"Such colorful language. Well, I disagree."

"I don't care! Jesus! Let her go or so help me-" Clint yelled, swiftly closing the gap between Loki and him.

"You love her?"

Clint's feet were like lead, he stopped abruptly. The hinge of his jaw locked painfully.

"The night I took you to this place," Loki said gesturing to the immaculate cage he'd crafted. "I went to your meager home. Before I revealed myself to you and we fought, I watched you together. I was in the room, invisible to your eyes, but you felt me didn't you?"

Clint was too confused to respond. What was Loki's game?

"Yes, I know you did. When you take over a person's mind you leave an imprint on them and they in turn do the same to you. I stood in the room and watched you sit beside her. I saw your hand placed on her back, a friend's hand of comfort that yearned to be more, the hand that fought the urge to slide down and claim parts of her that she kept from you. I felt the heat you fight every day, it poured off of you in waves."

Clint colored slightly, but did not protest; Loki smirked.

"After I saw that, saw it for myself, not just in in your mind, I knew that last memory was the key to unlocking why you keep yourself from the one thing you desire most."

Clint felt so drained. His vision blurred like heat off scorched asphalt.

"That memory was the final piece of the puzzle. You see, brother." Loki swung and addressed Thor. "You venerate liberty, but you do not see that freedom is a double edged sword. Humans at heart are base, primal creatures. Society would have you believe that its laws cull the ranks and remove the bestial nature from them, but it is a fantasy. Deep down there is a constant struggle with this darkness that is their cruel birthright. Is that autonomy?"

Thor shook his head. Loki approached him slowly. As he grew close Thor could see tears in his brother's eyes.

"It is not fair brother that they should suffer so much. See how your own comrade is an example of this. He loves this woman, but fears the darkness in himself. He fears one day he will do as his father did."

Loki turned on his heel and his voice rang in the dome like a brass bell. Clint flinched.

"Isn't that right, Barton?"

Clint looked at him with wide, wet eyes. His throat was tight as if there was a noose coiled about his neck. He tried to speak, but words failed him. He felt like he had when he was a child, naked and powerless. He'd trained since he was young to keep a battlement between himself and everyone around him, but Loki had unmade him brick by brick.

The strained silence seemed to give Loki a renewed conviction.

"The man who raised you was a rapist and murderer. How many times did you lie awake after that night in the trailer and wonder if you were tainted too? How often do you wonder if what was in him was in you? If you had the capacity to brutalize someone you loved?"

Clint stared at the ground. He still laid awake some nights and thought about Big John, he'd cared for him like his own flesh and blood. When Clint felt that fear crawl inside his head and whisper insidious taunts, he'd go to the training room and hit the heavy bag until his knuckles were red and split. He never wanted to lose control, the concentration it took to constantly be on guard worn him down at times. When Nat came to his door one night after a particularly abysmal mission he'd stood in the doorway and talked to her. He didn't want to invite her in because of what he might do. His body ached for her that night. The deaths of some of the squad members on the mission laid heavy on his conscious. He wanted her naked and yielding beneath him, to affirm life by the very act that created it, but instead he'd leaned tensely against the doorframe. When she tried to embrace him before leaving he'd waved her away saying he was beginning to feel ill and swiftly shut the door.

Natasha was no blushing virgin, but he knew her history. The Russian mafia had particularly gruesome tactics of training. He remembered the first time she'd spoken to him, the night he almost killed her. They'd been playing cat and mouse for nearly twelve weeks, but Clint was one move ahead for the first time in months. He'd waited in the room and caught her off guard when she entered. He knocked her to the floor and he could feel her heart hammering against his chest. She did not fight but seemed to be listening intently. The room was pitch black. She was just a voice in the darkness as she chucked softly.

"You can take my life if you want, Agent; it's the last thing I have left. There is nothing else to take from me."

He never forgot the empty, resigned sound in her voice. She had suffered so much that death did not shake her. Clint had respected her for weeks, but something deeper began to take root in him from that moment on.

Loki studied Barton, who seemed to be in another world, for a moment before about facing. His head felt light, but he was sure he was close; sure Thor would soon see things just as he did and take his place beside Loki.

"He is free brother, but he is paying the price for this freedom. The base animal that stalks inside his heart is always looking for a way out. How exhausting that must be, to constantly fight your nature? The dark instinct that is as ordinary to man as the need for air. These humans are not free if they must constantly battle their true nature. I could save them this pain. I could take away their fear of themselves, their fear of what lurks within. Do you see now? Do you understand why I am doing this, that there is a mercy to my actions?"

Thor's clear blue eyes seemed troubled. While Loki had shown him that humans did have an inclination towards violence, he could not agree that they should be enslaved to protect themselves. His eyes begged Loki to relinquish.

"You do not agree, brother?" Loki asked, his voice was soft and wavering. It was as if Thor's refusal had snapped something inside him. He knelt beside Thor's chair and took his hand. He bowed his head onto Thor's knuckles as if in prayer.

Thor kept his eyes trained on his brother, but in his peripheral vision he could see Clint stealthily approaching. Thor forced himself not to look away. This may be their only opportunity. Loki had placed his staff beside the chair; Barton had a chance at overpowering him if he was unarmed. Thor squeezed Loki's hand consolingly and he looked up. Thor's heart ached to see the pain in his brother's eyes; despite Loki's darkness, Thor loved him instinctively.

"Brother, you know I am not evil. You know that I strive to do good, don't you? So you will forgive me what I must do now, yes?" Desperation dripped from Loki's every word. Thor's brow knit in concern. What could possibly cause Loki to act this way? "I do it to show you how the world could be without a leader to show these creatures the light. I can protect them from themselves, but if you would rather they use their freedom and act on whatever base whim they choose, I must show you that freedom has consequences."

Clint was only a few feet from Loki's bent figure. His fingers tingled with nervous energy.

Loki gripped Thor's hand until his fingers were sore from the bones grinding together. Loki's tears wet Thor's hand as Loki bent his head and placed a trembling kiss on his brother's fist.

"You have forced me to this place. Forgive me."

Just as Clint began to lung, Loki swiftly turned and picked up his staff. Clint pivoted and rolled to right, just barely missing the sharp blade's edge. As he rose from a crouch, Loki stood before him, ready. Loki's expression made Clint want to run; there was an unnerving sorrow and blackness in his eyes. Without his usual flourish Loki placed the staff over Clint's heart and the air streamed out of his lungs.

Thor watched as Clint's eyes were drowned in a blank sapphire. Loki's arm dropped and he seemed to falter for a moment. His usually sharp eyes seemed cloudy with fatigue. The magic was taking a toll on him.

At the sound of a weak groan, Thor looked across the room to see Natasha's head roll to the side, her face clearing of the curtain of curls that had blocked her vision. She opened her eyes and Thor was relieved to see that they were no longer an emotionless blue. Loki must be too weak to keep more than one person under his control.

It didn't take Natasha long to realize that she needed to remain as still as possible. The pain from that arrow in her hand sent shocking webs of pain up her arm when she tried to move her fingers. The wound in her bicep was a throbbing burn. She wondered if the shaft had hit a nerve because she couldn't feel the blood that ran down her bicep. The less she moved the less damage. It took her a moment to realize that the arrows were Clint's. She didn't know whether to laugh or cry. The irony did not escape her. She closed her eyes, wishing she could dissolve into the chair that held her.

Loki walked toward Thor's chair and nodded at Clint. He turned and walked towards Natasha. Thor looked up at Loki, his face etched with uncertainty.

When Clint reached Natasha's chair he fell to one knee in front of her so that he was face to face with her. For a moment it looked to Thor as if Clint was genuflecting before an altar. Natasha held her breath as his empty eyes perused her face. She abhorred looking at his familiar façade and seeing a stranger. Then he moved quickly forward, sliding his lips against hers and pressing his body against her tense frame. Natasha was too shocked to react for a moment. It was something she'd always wanted, but not like this.

Twisting her head to the side, she broke the kiss and gasped for air as panic began to set in. There was a nightmarish heaviness to Clint's body that made her recall the past. The indoctrination she'd survived as a child in Russia, the memories she'd tried to repress. As Clint's hot breath brushed her neck the memories unspooled like a green thread.

"Oh God, Nat." Clint breathed in her ear, his voice was raw with hunger.

She felt him hard against her thigh and her stomach churned. She tried to buck him off of her, but he was too heavy. Why won't he stop! Her mind screamed. She'd seen him break Loki's spell before, why would he do this?

He trailed kissed down her neck and shoulder, seemingly unaware of the injury to her arm. When he kissed her again she tasted the metallic tang of her own blood. She kicked out wildly, trying to shake him without success. Her frantic movements jarred the oozing gashes in her arm and hands. Clint seemed unaware of her anguish, lost in some sort of trance, he moaned and ground his pelvis into her. She was sure to have bruises if she lived. He seemed to be losing control steadily and his breath came in ragged gasps.

He pulled at her shirt, tearing the fabric until it gave way, ripping down the front. Natasha shut her eyes. She didn't want to remember him this way, like an animal. His insistent mouth was overwhelming, not like she'd imagined it would be. His hands roamed over her body with a fraught desire, grasping and holding her as if she might disappear at any moment.

She heard Thor thrash against his chains on the opposite end of the room and bit the inside of her lip to keep from screaming. It was bad enough to have the person you trust become a weapon against you, but to have another bear witness to the event was beyond any humiliation she'd experienced.

Thor threw himself against his binds. He could not allow this to happen. He knew that Clint had some semblance of himself while under Loki's control. Why didn't he stop? Rage swept Thor in a searing wave.

"You see, brother? This is the darkness I spoke of. This is the part of himself that he fears the most: the visceral savage."

Thor didn't care at the moment; he was filled with ire. His wrists were raw from pulling against the chains.

Clint pushed against her, bracing himself on the chair and knocked her arm to the side sending an agonizing jolt through her hand. She wretched her lips away from his urgent mouth and yelped. Clint seemed deaf to her cry. He stood suddenly and stripped off his white undershirt. Acidic bile rose in her throat. She kicked at him, but he grabbed her leg at the crook of her knee. His grip pulled her towards him and she slid forward on the shaft of the arrow that had punctured her bicep. Her teeth knocked together as she sought to keep from shouting. He plunged forward quickly and captured her mouth in a kiss before pulling her further. Her arm slid off the shaft of the arrow fully and she collapsed onto the ground in front of the chair. Little black dots burst in her eyesight. Her hand was still pinioned to the chair and Clint's body kept her from escaping. She turned to the side and tears slid off her face.

"Who is the evil one?" Loki whispered in Thor's ear. Then lifted his staff and cast over Thor. The chains and gag fell away. Thor rose suddenly and turned to Loki who held his ground. This was his chance to overcome Loki, but a weak, strangled cry captured his attention. Thor turned to see Natasha had kicked off Clint, but he was again approaching her with a mindless yearning.

Rage passed through Thor like a black spirit. He forgot about Loki. He only saw Natasha's bloody lips and the angry red marks from Clint's finger nails that raked on her pale neck. Thor reached Clint just before he could touch her again. He swung his almighty fists and sent Clint twisting like a ragdoll to the ground. His cheek split and blood smeared the wood. Even with Loki's bracelet, containing much of his power, his punch was stronger than most mortal's.

Clint rolled onto his knees and cursed. The spell had been broken.

"Jesus, that fucking hurt. What did-" Before he could continue Thor kicked him in the ribs and sent Clint sprawling. There was a satisfying crunch to his ribs. Clint turned to see Thor's face marred by spite.

"Thor, why are- " Thor's hand clenched around Clint's throat like a vice.

"Why didn't you stop? Why!" Thor bellowed.

"I don't under- Why are you-" Clint tried to defend himself as Thor rained down more punches, consumed by his temper.

Blood gushed from Clint's nose and his right eye was blind from swelling.

"Why are you doing this?"

Thor gripped his sandy hair and jerked Clint's head to the side so that he was facing Natasha. She'd curled on the floor beside the chair with her back to them, but Clint could see the ripped and bloodied t-shirt that hung about the dip in her waist and scrape marks on her back. It didn't take much for him to understand. He began to wretch as the realization broke over him like blade parting tender skin. Thor released him. Clint turned and shoved Thor, who reacted just as he had hoped, by landing a painful blow to the side of his face. Clint welcomed the darkness and hoped it would be eternal.

Author: This one was long because dealt with several characters, not just one. Additionally, I think that assault is a serious, serious thing and I do not take it lightly, so I struggled to write this chapter accurately for all of characters involved. I truly hope no one was offended by what I wrote or take it the wrong way. If you're still with me, then please, please review. Next chapter, the team will all be together again.


	14. Lo Though I Walk

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters.

Author: Zenappa- Thank you for your review. This update is for you.

The cell door clanged shut and the specter disappeared into the silent night air.

Thor walked past the Captain without so much as a word and placed Clint's bloodstained body on the ground. Tony followed at his shoulder.

"Jesus. What happened? What did he do to him?"

Thor ignored Tony's questions, turning away from Clint's battered face and he paced to the far side of the cell. He brushed past The Captain, who had gone to Clint and begun to check his vitals, his face marred with confusion and horror.

"Thor, talk to me here, I mean- what did he do to him?" Tony combed a hand through his dark locks.

Thor kept his back turned, refusing Tony's inquiries.

"Look we've all been through some deep shit here, buddy, I get it, but you can't shut us out now. This is not the time to go all Hamlet on me here." Tony said, trying and failing to infuse his urgency with levity.

Thor was a soundless pillar. His shoulder's rounded in defeat.

Tony took a knee beside Steve who was running his hand over Clint's side checking the archer's ribs for breaks. Tony looked over Clint's face.

"There's so much blood on him, but he's not cut up much." Tony noted with concern.

Steve's eyes met his with equal apprehension and he whipped around to face Thor.

"What happened?" Steve asked his voice sharp. Tony's eyebrows rose slightly, The Captain angry was like a twister, you didn't see it often but when you did it was a sight to behold.

"Thor!" Steve yelled. He wanted to go to Thor and shake it out of him, but he held his ground and trusted in his teammate would come to his senses.

A cold feeling passed over Tony and he stood to stand beside Steve.

"Where is Natasha?" Tony asked afraid to hear the answer.

Thor's body seemed to coil slightly at her name.

"Oh God, is she- is this her blood? Thor answer me!" Steve commanded, his stomach roiled and his head felt light. He was powerless to protect them. He'd let her die. Tony placed a hand on his shoulder to steady his leader, as if he knew Steve was being swept away by a fresh gale of self-loathing.

"I was wrong." Thor began, his deep voice pierced the air. "I was wrong to believe that humans were better or had more goodness in their hearts than the people in my world. I see now, your hearts are just as black as the worst of my kind. You just like the rest: liars, rapists, murderers."

At his last sentence Tony snapped, fear strung in time with rage in the pit of his stomach.

"What? Where is she!?" He yelled, lunging forward. He wrapped his hands around Thor's shoulder and yanked him with what strength he had. Thor reluctantly allowed himself to be turned and it was then that Tony saw the tear tracks on his cheeks. Tony understood his pain. Thor had been tortured just as much as he had by being forced to witness his friends suffer, but what frightened Tony was the deadened and blunt tone of his voice when he'd spoken.

"She lives still. She is with Loki." Thor's voice rumbled and he motioned toward the domed room.

"What happened? What did he do?" Steve asked stepping into Thor's eye line, he held his gaze relentlessly. Thor needed to focus; they all did if they wanted to survive. Steve's heart was buoyed by the thought that Natasha was still alive.

Thor shook his head, golden hair muddled with sweat swept over his cheeks.

"Why did he let you come back and keep her out there?" Tony asked his voice steely.

"I don't know." Thor looked at him unabashed. "There is little else he could do to her now."

"How do you mean?" Steve's tanned brow creased.

Thor looked at him for a moment with desperation; he didn't want to speak of what he'd seen, it was too wretched. His eyes left Steve for a moment looking past him to where Clint lay on the ground his body unnaturally calm. The Clint he knew was always tense and at the ready. His body was finely attuned to his surroundings, absorbing and reacting with fluidity and frightening grace. Lying on the ground, wilted and bruised, he was almost unrecognizable. But the image of Clint as a rakish, but solid teammate had been wiped away. Thor couldn't erase the memory of Clint's fingernails biting and clawing at Natasha's pale skin, an image that made his sadness diluted by rage. Human's had hearts filled with darkness they never dared speak. Loki had given voice to one single man's heart, what about all the rest? Could he trust these humans?

"Thor?" Steve placed a hand lightly on Thor's shoulder. He jerked back as if burned.

"No. I won't tell you what I saw. Stop badgering me with petty questions! Don't you see none of this matters. What if he was right about everything?! What then?!" He roared , Steve took a step back, his palms up.

Tony turned from Steve and Thor, his mouth thin with displeasure. They'd have to wait. Neither Thor nor Clint was in a state to tell them what happened.

"We wait for her to come back. She'll come back." Tony commanded.

Steve looked at his second and nodded. Tony was right. They needed order and a plan if they were going to defeat Loki.

"We need to sleep." Steve said. "I'll take the first watch. You and Thor try to sleep some, we'll need our strength. I'll keep an eye out."

Steve felt hollow for a moment. He'd almost said he'd keep watch for Natasha, but he couldn't bring himself to say it. He was afraid to say it, in case it wasn't true. What had transpired that had made Thor so distraught? It must have been horrific to move the god so much. He wanted answers, but Thor was in no state to give them. If he pushed his comrade now it might tear the unit at the seams.

Tony and Thor both lay down on the hard floor and while neither expected to sleep, they were both unconscious in minutes. Steve smiled a bit to himself as he heard their breathing slow. He was still right about some things. He walked to the cell door, his fingers smoothing over the crude bindings on his hands, Natasha's veiled attempt at showing him kindness. When his brow touched the bars he closed his eyes. Leaning against the black bars he prayed silently, but in earnest. He prayed because he knew they were in the valley and he did indeed fear the evil that awaited.

Author: Much more to come including mind games between Loki and Natasha, some hurt/comfort from Steve and how the gang deals with Clint's actions.

If I get some reviews I will have the next chapter out by tomorrow night. Thank you for reading!


	15. The Compassion Card

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters.

Author: Thank you to all the readers, especially ChaosBlack5711, sudoku and TheFictionalMe for the kindly reviews.

Warning: Please read the warning in chapter 13, as it applies to this chapter as well. Also, this chapter has strong language.

She believed she was alone until soft fingertips gently brushed her curls from her face. She closed her eyes and waited for pain.

"This will hurt."

She heard the arrow shaft snap and felt pain sharp as glass as her hand was removed from the remaining length of the arrow. Her palm throbbed in a steady beat, like a young heart.

She tried to clutch the hand to her body, to find some relief by adding pressure, but Loki's thin hand gripped her wrist and held her steady.

She opened her eyes and met his. He looked as tired and broken as she felt.

"You must be in pain." He said, his voice wavering slightly.

"Yes." She managed to breath.

"Don't you want it to stop?"

She again tried to gather her hand to her chest, but he would not relent, blood dotted the floor between them. His blue eyes searched her face. Her shoulders began to shake uncontrollably, she felt so cold.

"Don't you want it to stop? Wouldn't you want that, Nat? An end to the pain?"

She clenched her teeth at his use of Clint's nickname for her. He brushed a tear from her scraped cheek. The shaking seemed to be crawling up her arms and her fingers trembled almost imperceptibly.

"I'm cold." She said. Shocked at how simple she sounded, how like a child.

He laughed a little good natured laugh and stroked her arm from shoulder to elbow.

"Yes, inside and out, or so you'd have everyone believe."

She suddenly remembered Loki had taken over her body, she'd nearly forgotten after what Clint had done. Loki had been with her, in the most secret places of her mind, his hands guiding her down dark hallways, his lips whispering suggestions. Her shoulders quaked in earnest now.

"Give me my hand." She jerked back with what strength remained. Loki continued to hold her firmly. "Let go!" She swung her free arm and connected with Loki's cheek, marking it red. She cried out and gasped remembering the injury to her other arm. Her anger cost her fresh torture. She wanted to screamed in frustration at Loki's placid face.

"What do you want? What more could you want?"

Sadness seemed to cloud his eyes and he looked down at the ground shamefaced.

"Forgiveness."

Natasha's breath caught in her throat and she stilled.

"I didn't want for this to happen. I'm not an evil person- I all my life, I've been misjudged. I just-" His lips trembled as his words poured out at a frantic pace and tears glimmered in his eyes. He knelt his head and placed it on her fingers, just below the wound; his shiny black hair falling about his face.

Natasha looked around the room. The staff was leaning against the chair, just behind Loki. If she could subdue him, then she could reach it without much trouble. But her head felt light from the pain and she was in no shape to throwdown. Violence wasn't the only weapon in her arsenal; there were others, but the thought of attempting to use any other method than violence on Loki made her feel ill, especially after what Clint had done. But if she could save her friends it would be worth it. She steeled herself.

"I could forgive you."

Loki looked up; a tear sliding over the red mark on his cheek.

"You're lying. No one could forgive me for what I've done."

"I could." She said, surprised to find that she meant it. She could forgive Loki for this, if he really did repent. She'd done terrible things in her life too, if he really did free them, perhaps she could find it in her. This made her feel strong, to find her capacity for compassion was not broken, even after what she'd been through. She held onto that thought, she had not been destroyed by him.

"You would forgive me?" He asked his hand falling from her wrist and resting on her knee. Its warmth sent shivers down her arms.

"Yes." She said placing her good hand on his shoulder. He looked down at it in surprise, then back into her eyes, his face coloring slightly.

She expertly slipped her hand from his shoulder and ran it over his pale neck sending tingling shocks over his spine. Then up until it rested on the side of his face and she ran her thumb over the red streak her fist had painted on his sharp cheekbone. He was objectively handsome, she couldn't deny it, but the perfection of his features was unnerving.

"I need to know that you mean it. Please. Forgive me." His hand on her knee gripped desperately and another tear glided down his face.

She ghosted her thumb over his mouth, silencing him. Her finger ran the length of his lips, feeling their softness. Bile began to rise in her throat, but she bit it back. This is what she could do to save them. Could she live with herself if she went to back to the cell and never tried?

She focused on his soft lips, refusing to look into his eyes as she drew herself close to his body. She could feel his breath hitch slightly. Her fingers gripped the back of his neck tightly to keep him from feeling their shaking. Her lips met his tentatively and he could taste the metal of her blood. It made him smile inwardly.

Tears pricked her eyes, obscuring her vision. All she could think of was Clint; his calloused hands, the smell of his sweat, the bristle of his unshaven cheek, his hardness urging at her hip, the throaty moans welling over his scorching lips. She chocked back a sob when Loki's hand slid over her back. The pads of his fingers ran over the raised welts from Clint's fingernails. Her head swam. She couldn't do this, it was too soon, too much, but she was in too deep to run. If she gave up her ruse now, Loki might not stop either way. She had to keep going and hope to get the staff.

Suddenly, his mouth became adamant, parting her lips and exploring her with his tongue. She used her shaking hand to press him back until he was leaning against the chair, breaking the kiss. She buried her face into his ivory neck and ran her hands through his hair. The staff was still too far out of reach. He shifted just below her and she felt him ridged against her thigh. Her body seized and a whimper escaped her lips. She tried to gather herself, tried to kiss him again, but she felt warm acid creep up her throat and tears dripped off of her jaw.

"What's wrong?" Loki asked his voice silky and his pupils blown wide with desire.

Natasha's bent her head, she couldn't do it. Plan B: She elbowed him in the face and lunged forward reaching past Loki, to where his staff was propped against the chair, but he recovered and gripped her wounded hand in a painful grasp. For a moment all she saw was white. Her scream echoed against the dome.

"What's wrong?" He questioned again, but this time his voice was cutting. He kept his grip on her hand tight and with his free hand he gripped the nape of her neck, forcing her to look at him.

"What's the matter, Agent? Don't you have a mission to complete? Aren't you going to fuck me to save your team, you pathetic cunt?" He released her hand. "I didn't think you'd have it in you to even try after what Barton did to you, but I suppose you're used to getting pain with your pleasure by now."

She swung her hand to slap him, but he dodged the blow with ease. He laughed without mirth.

"So what will it be? I'm still ready if you'd like to try again." He bent her back, bucking his pelvis against her painfully. His hand wretched the tattered remains of her shirt off her shoulders leaving her exposed. He kissed her hard on the neck and mouth, clamping her lip in his teeth. She yelped and gasped for air. Her arms felt limp and numb, she feared she'd pass out soon, alone, with him. Then as suddenly as it had begun his onslaught stopped.

"How disappointing." He quipped

He released her and shoved her back onto the ground without satisfaction.

"Though, I'm glad to see I've had such an effect on you. I was concerned you're little trauma with Barton hadn't been enough to break your spirit, but I was wrong. I see that is was just the thing you needed. How will you ever be able to look at him again?"

He smiled good naturedly. Natasha stood shakily and picked up her shirt.

"No." Loki commanded.

He walked over to her and took the ragged cloth from her.

"You go back as you are."

"Fuck you."

"Perhaps." He smiled as her face paled.

* * *

Tony was officially on watch when she returned, but Steve, who couldn't sleep well, had busied himself with cleaning up Clint at the far end of the cell, using water that that specters had brought in metal pails.

She entered silently and jumped a bit at the sound to the door's clang.

"God damnit." Tony ran a hand over his stubble jaw as he took in her bloodied arm and hand. She looked very small without a shirt on, only in a practical black bra and jeans. She looked up at him frankly and without pity. He stripped off his dress shirt and tried to wrap it around her shoulders. She gripped his forearm with her good hand and held it. She breathed a sigh.

"I'm fine."

Tony nodded and she released his wrist. He held the garment out to her and she took it wordlessly and put it on, careful not to move her arm too much.

"Thank you."

"You look like shit, Natasha."

She cracked a painful smile, her lip still hurt from where Loki had- she was going to be sick. She leaned against the bar for support until a warm arm wrapped around her torso. They walked to the nearest wall and he steadied her as she descended to the ground. Tony took a seat next to her, careful not to disturb Thor was sleeping several feet away.

"Thanks."

"I'm just glad to see you're alive."

"Never thought I'd say this, but likewise, Stark."

"What you thought a bit of magic brain-fuckery was going to put me out of commission? You don't know me that well, Red."

"I suppose I don't." She looked down at her hands, but could feel his eyes pursuing her face, cataloguing every bruise and scrape. "It's rude to stare."

"I know." He said, his voice heavier than usual. He couldn't help it. From what he could tell, she'd had it bad from Loki. The marks were no worse than what they might see in heavy battle, she was only human after all, but it was impossible for Tony to ignore her swollen, red lips and the marks on her neck, not to mention, her state of undress. She looked fucked, to put it bluntly, that was what concerned Tony. It wouldn't escape the other's notice.

"I don't want to talk about it. I'm sure you can draw you're conclusions, Tony."

"I can and I have, but they will want to talk about it, eventually."

"We'll see about that. For now, we've been given a respite. Loki says he won't come for us for a day. I don't know why, but we're getting cut a break. It's a tactic, I'm sure, but I can't figure it."

She fell silent, lost in thought.

Tony looked past her to where Steve kneeled beside Clint. It was dim on that side of the cell, but he could see Steve had stopped working. He was watching Tony and Natasha, no doubt fighting every do-gooder impulse he had to come over. Tony knew he'd want to see her; to be sure she was ok. He knew Steve felt responsible for them all. But Steve knew when to back off, to put other's needs before his own desires. Steve sat in the darkness and waited for her to come to him, just glad his prayers had been answered.

Author: Well that was not what I planned on writing when I began, but thats how it ended up. Next chapter won't be quite so dark; I need to lighten up a bit myself.

More to come: Some hurt comfort from Steve, how they deal with the aftermath of Loki's games, and finally finding out where the hell Bruce is...?

If I get at least 4+ reviews I will have the next chapter out by tomorrow night. Thank you for reading!


	16. Open Wounds

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters.

Author: Thank you to everyone who has been reading and following. Also, a big thanks to mellbell12123, rennogsd1996, and as well as the guests who reviewed; it means a lot to know you're out there :)

Steve's hand encompassed Natasha's and she took comfort in its kind heat, but did not open her eyes. It seemed like hours since Tony had retired his watch, but Steve had held firm and given her time. She knew he'd come to be by her side eventually, knew he'd wanted to be from the moment she entered, but he'd waited out of respect. Tony had left her sitting against the wall and taken a length of icy stone and used his hands as a pillow for his head, but still Steve waited. He busied himself with Clint's wounds, trying to clean and bandage what he could, as best he could. Natasha had closed her eyes and focused in on the rhythmic sloshing of water that Steve made when he dipped scraps from his own shirt into the pail. She imagined rain, her favorite kind of weather and drank in the still air.

Her arm and hand hurt, but she wanted to feel the pain. What Loki didn't understand, was that she didn't want the pain to stop. It made her alive; death was a numb mask, life was pain and sweetness entwined. Life was a clumsy ramble through a briar patch, never being sure of which way is right. Loki thought he understood humanity, but he didn't have the first clue. She breathed through the pain and when Steve's palm slid over her palm and his finger knitted in her's she couldn't help a small smile from gracing her lips.

"Your hand is cold." Steve commented with surprise tinged his words, turning them up at the edges like burning paper.

"My mother always said, 'cold hands, warm heart'" Natasha said tightly squeezing her eyelids until white flickered across the blackness.

"You're very pale." Steve said, noting the blood that had begun to seep through Tony's designer dress shirt.

"Yes, I must be." She said her voice void of emotion. "Should I undress?"

Steve blushed slightly, though he would have done so furiously, if it weren't for the circumstances. Aside from the mild embarrassment, he also felt concern. It wasn't like Natasha to offer much of anything. She had proved to be one of the most cagey people he'd ever met. It unsettled him that she'd offer anything to him, what had Loki done to her?

"Someone should probably look at your arm and hand and…" He trailed off, unsure of how to phrase things delicately.

"And anywhere else I've been injured? Yes, I know." She sighed and opened her eyes. For a moment she saw Clint's body at the far end of the cell, the sight of him made her head dizzy. Flashes of memories of their mutual torture keep bursting onto her mind's eye, fresh as the moment they occurred. The way Clint had curled into himself like a child, furious, bewildered and terrified as Thor pummeled him. Her heart was with him then, even after everything that had transpired it hurt her to see him so lost. Still, the sympathy she had for him was countered by the marks he'd left on her body and the low tenor of his enraptured voice as he gasped her name that kept ringing in her ears. "_Nat_." Loki was right, she'd always remember his hands pulling her off his own arrow and tearing away her shirt as if desperate to taste her skin. Loki had taken away the one man she trusted with her life. She'd never forget it, but could she somehow come to forgive it?

"Natasha."

She turned to Steve who was looking at her large eyes and strained, pale face with equal parts curiosity and anxiety.

Perhaps it was wrong, but she didn't want to explain herself. Steve always seemed to her to be Virtue itself, and the idea of telling him, of all people what had happened, made her gut twist. She didn't want his eyes to look on her with pity, she wanted respect. Thor had witnessed the event and Tony seemed to already know what had happened to her, though not Clint's role in it. But Steve, how could she bring herself to say it to him? He'd want to know what happened, as their leader he wouldn't relent until he did, he needed to, so she'd make him understand the only way she could stomach to, by letting him see for himself.

She began to wriggle her undamaged arm out of one of the oversized sleeves. She sucked in the air through her teeth as she twisted too far and pain broke over her arm and shoulder. Steve placed a hand lightly on her back, staying her efforts. He gently pulled the shirt off of one shoulder then the next, then down the length of her arms, careful not to disturb the wound on her hand.

She shook her head and her curls fell down her back like fiery waterfall, exposing her shoulders. She looked past him into the domed room where Loki had made and unmade her.

Looking at her exposed, battered torso Steve felt sick. He bit the inside of his cheek and began inspecting the wound in her upper arm. Steve knew it had to be an arrow; he'd accidentally been struck by one of Clint's in a training session and recognized the size and shape of the wound.

_Clint?_ Steve felt cold drip down the links in his spine._ Were they his arrows? Did he do this? What the hell had happened out there?_

The hole had gone clean through, but there were signs of tearing, around the edges. She'd struggled. The wound seemed to be clotting well, but there was a trail of drying blood running from the wound.

"I'll need to clean some of this blood." He said quietly and got up hastily, his face white as bone.

She knew he didn't need to, but he wanted to. This was his process of understanding and abiding what he was seeing.

He returned with a wet scrap of cloth and set to work. He cleaned the blood that had ran down her arm, and been diverted at the crease in her elbow. The blood was brown and caked by now, it made her skin feel tight and stiff. When he'd finished cleaning her arm he set to work on her hand. Again, the wound had gone straight through, but showed signs of damage from a struggle. He took additional strips of cloth and tied the arrow wounds with crude, but thoughtful bandages. Then he took a look at the rest of her. His hands, which were already unsteady from the constant stress, now shook with blunt rage. He took in the scratch marks on her chest and the purplish contusions on her neck, the cuts on her cheek and lip. The tips of his fingers unconsciously ran over the scrape on her edge of her jaw.

"You fought back." Steve said, his voice was thick with emotion.

She looked him straight in the eye.

"Yes, it's the only way I've made it this far. You understand?" She asked.

"I don't- Natasha I can't-." He placed his head in his hands, indignant tears stung his eyes. Loki had sunk lower than he'd ever imagined he could.

"You know what happened to me is part of his game." She said placing a cautious hand on his blonde crown. He looked up and took in her grim, but fixed expression.

"You're principled to a fault; remember I said that was my assessment of you?"

"Yes."

"Don't let your principles get you killed. What he did to me, to Tony, to- to-" He voice faltered for a second. "to Clint, it's a trap. A trap set for you to fall in and he believes you will because he knows what I know: you're a good man."

"But what he did- it's, there is nothing-"

"Stop. This is his play for you, don't you see? Didn't you ever wonder why he never came for you? Because he knew you'd go to him. You'll play into his hand if you go looking for a fight. We need to stick together."

She bit her lip thinking of Clint. Would they react like Thor did when they found out the truth? Could she conceal his involvement? Perhaps there was a way to protect him, if she could only get Thor to promise to stay quiet.

"What should I do, just sit and wait then? Just sit back until he takes Tony, or Clint or Thor or you again? Could you forgive me if I don't do something to stop that from happening again?" He stood and paced to the bars. He felt queasy from looking at the marks on her body.

"He'll come for us all again, one way or another, but right now we're together and we need to figure out what we can do to survive this. I'm not going to die by his hand. I've lived too long for a piece of shit like that to be the death of me. Now help me put my shirt back on."

Steve obeyed and when he'd gently replaced the garment his hands remained where they were resting lightly on her shoulders, their warmth soothing her tensed muscles.

"I won't let this happen again." He said, willing himself to believe his own avowal.

Natasha stretched her split lip across her teeth in a weary smile.

"Captain, I know you won't." She said, not believing a word she spoke.

Author: SLLLLLLOOOOOWWWWW pacing, I know. It should pick up again soon.

More to come: Remember that Liberator? Steve forgot too, but don't worry Loki will remind him, Thor is tempted to Loki's side, Tony grapples with a secret and much more…

Please, please review. If I can get 4 solid reviews I'll have the next chapter out by tomorrow night. Thanks for reading!


	17. An Empty Doorway

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters.

Author: Thank you all for reading, following, favoriting and just generally being wonderfully supportive. Big thanks to Sudoku, Chaosblack5711, mellbell12123, Bilby, Traya001 and UniqueAngel5 your reviews were incredibly uplifting and insightful, I appreciate you taking the time to let me know what you thought, it keeps me going!

The door swung open without a sound. The hallway was empty and no one stood at the door.

Thor was crouched at the far end of the cell, nearest to the domed room, keeping watch. The cell door's tall shadow fell over him and he looked up. He scrutinized the lonely door for a moment. What could it mean? Clint lay beside the open door. He had not stirred since Thor had taken watch over from Steve. He couldn't help his eyes from straying to his teammate's stricken face. His fist's ached with regret; he'd acted rashly, on pure impulsive wrath. It had coursed through him, its power humming in every muscle. He'd taken blood for blood. He still wasn't sure if it was the right thing to do, but what he'd witnessed, no decent man could stand idly by and watch. Wouldn't Steve have done the very same thing in his place? Or Tony? And yet, Natasha had cornered him after Steve had gone to sleep and requested his silence. She wished to defend Clint even after what he'd done. It was baffling. Still, he'd noted that she could barely speak Clint's name and she slept between Tony and Steve, instead of nearer to Clint where there was more to stretch out. Her heart was at war as well.

Thor looked at the empty doorway. _Loki?_ He wondered, but he couldn't feel his brother there, like a scent on breeze that unexpectedly reaches a hound's nose.

Thor stood and moved with remarkable stealth towards the door. He didn't want to wake anyone up in case it was only an illusion. Or a trap.

_No need to trouble their sleep_, he reasoned.

When he reached the door he extended his hand in front of him and cautiously crossed the threshold into the hall.

"Going somewhere?" A voice rasped behind him.

Thor whipped around to find Tony, hair matted and shirtless, but with alert eyes staring back at him with a crooked expression.

"It opened." Thor said simply.

Tony rubbed the sleep from his eyes and joined Thor in the hallway.

"Sure, old prisons like this, doors are always opening and closing nillywilly." Tony commented dryly, as he peered down the torchlit hallway.

"I do believe you are jesting, this is not normal. It must be my brother. We could wake the others." Thor suggested half-heartedly, he knew Steve would insist on a plan, but he wanted answers now.

Tony was of the same mind.

"No. They're not in a position to help us as it is. If this is leading to another round on the bed of nails with your darling brother, then I'll prefer not to invite anyone else to the party. They've been through enough."

Natasha's blood was still beneath Tony's manicured nails from when he'd helped her to the ground when she'd first returned. He'd never seen her eyes so haunted before and she was one haunted chick. Loki had a way of doing that though, Tony knew from personal experience. His hands had finally stopped shaking, but every so often he imagined he could feel the blood trickling down his fingers.

"Let's go see what is at the end of the hallway, I was brought in with Loki from the left, so I can tell you it only leads to the room with the domed roof. Perhaps there is something more promising at the other end." Thor said, not waiting for Tony's approval he set off down the corridor.

Tony kept up with his swift pace and they quickly reached the mouth of the hallway which dropped off to a steep flight of smooth, stone steps.

Thor paused and looked to Tony who nodded. They began their descent. The stairs curled to the side, obscuring their path, they pressed forward with caution.

"Do you know where we are?" Tony whispered.

"No." Thor replied.

"Think we're on your planet or mine?"

"It is difficult to say, but the sun rises and sets, so it may indeed be Earth. I cannot say. Loki is devious. It would be wiser for him to imprison us on my planet, since it would be difficult for you to escape. Yet, that would mean he risks being caught by my people, who would no doubt punish him severely for his actions."

"Punish severely? I'd like to do a lot more than that." Tony remarked dryly. His head was beginning to spin from the circles.

As they rounded the corner Thor stopped short.

"What?" Tony asked.

"My brother does deserve to be punished, but you humans are not without fault. Only the pure may stand in judgment of the unclean. Are any of you without blemish?"

Tony's rocked back on his heels a second.

"You sound like your Loki." He breathed, in shock. "What happened to you? Purity, blemish- what the hell happened to you?"

Hot shame crept up Thor's neck. Had he become Loki's disciple?

"What happened?"

Thor turned to continue, lost in thought, but Tony hooked his arm and held him.

"You saw him torture me. I know that piece of the puzzle, I was there. You think I'm a murderer, I'm not. I've made choices I'm not proud of, but I'm not a killer. If you have something to say to me, you'd better get it off your chest."

"I have nothing to say to you, Stark." Thor pulled his arm from Tony's grasp.

"But, that's not it. The light left your eyes after that. You hadn't given up fighting when I was getting my blood bath. When did you quit?"

Thor continued walking, trying to leave Tony's questioning behind.

"Was it when Loki forced you to beat Clint?" Tony's voice stung his ears.

Thor froze.

"It wasn't your fault that those things happened." Tony reassured him.

"You don't know what you're talking about." Thor said curtly.

"You couldn't help what you did. His magic is strong. Clint's going to be alright. He's tough; he can take a few blows."

"No, you don't understand! No one made me do anything. I did it because I wanted to because he deserved it! He wouldn't stop hurting her, so I made him stop!"

Tony air poured out of his lungs as if he'd just been socked in the stomach. His fears had been confirmed. It was Natasha's blood on Clint's hands. Perhaps it would be better if Clint never woke up. If he never had to face what he'd done. If he never had to face the accusations of his teammates, their ire, an ire that Tony couldn't deny was in him as well. He thought of Pepper's sweet expression. Never- he'd never let anyone lay a hand on her, much less lay one on her himself.

He turned and began to walk back up the stairs.

"Tony, where are you going?" Thor called after him.

"Back to our cage." He said blackly.

Thor bounded up the steps and stood before him.

"Wait, we need to see where this leads?" he said bewildered by Tony's retreat.

"No, I already know where it leads." Tony said pushing past Thor's outstretched arm.

"Where?" Thor asked.

Tony spun on his heel and faced the towering god.

"Nowhere. It goes down forever."

"What?"

"The door opens and we just get to go free? He maims us, reduces us to animals, poisons our hearts and we all just get to walk away? It goes down, but leads to nothing. That's Loki's way. There is no way out. He's teaching us the futility of hope. The door opened to nothing."

Tony turned as his throat began to tighten; he'd cried enough tears for himself.

Author: Sigh. Explosions to come.

Up next: Find out where Bruce has been, Steve and Loki faceoff, will Thor be Loki's apt pupil?

Please, please review! If I can get 4 solid reviews in then I'll have the next chapter out by tomorrow and I promise it'll be worth it J

Thanks for reading!


	18. Gone

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters.

Author: Thanks to all who are reading! Especially big ups to mellbell12123, HeartsNaruto, Sudoku and ChaosBlack5711, you guys are great!

As Tony rounded the final bend in the staircase he heard rapid footfall approaching. He stilled and signaled Thor to keep quite. Thor rolled his eyes at Tony's command, but remained silent, listening keenly to the growing noise. Tony gauged they were nearing the entrance to the staircase, as he turned the corner ready to strike and was met with a well-timed fist.

"Jesus!" Natasha swore softly, easing her stance when she saw it was Tony and Thor.

"Ah, Christ." Tony said, wiping away the blood that leaked lazily from his nose with the back of his hand.

"Sorry, Tony. Impulse." She explained.

"It is not wise for you to be up." Thor advised Natasha, the hollowness in her cheeks seemed even deeper by the light of the torches.

"I'm fine." She replied brusquely. Thor and Steve both had the annoying habit of being chivalrous; she worried she'd never cure them of it.

"What are you doing here?" Thor asked.

"I woke up and you were all gone. I saw the door was open. I wasn't going to just wait around until you came back." She said following Tony's lead and taking a seat on one of the steps.

"It would have been better if you'd waited. You have not yet fully recovered-" Thor began sagely.

"I'm fine." She snapped, wrapping Tony's oversized shirt tightly around her. "Where does this lead?" She motioned toward the spiraling steps.

"Nowhere, we were just coming back." Tony said wiping stray blood onto his pant leg. Pepper would have been furious, it made him smile weakly to think of her angry. She looked gorgeous when she was flustered.

"Are you waiting for Steve?" She asked.

"No. He's not with us. He was in the cell-"

"What? I was alone when I woke up- well except for Clint, I was the only one there. Steve's not-" She stood suddenly as if stung.

"No, we left him with you, he was asleep." Tony said. His heart beat like a battle tom-tom. He took the steps two at a time and hurtled down the hall, with Natasha and Thor following close behind.

He turned into the cell and saw it was empty, except for Clint's slumbering form. How could he have been so stupid, so fucking bullheaded?! Thor stepped past him and went to the far cage door, pulling at the bars which held firm. Tony couldn't move. He'd fucked up. Selfish, egotistical, prick, he'd fucked up big time.

"Damnit!" He spat, clawing a hand through his unkempt brown mane.

Natasha walked past him and slid down the wall, hugging her legs into her body.

"Stark, calm yourself. Loki must have taken him. He will return." Thor assured him.

"No you don't get it." Tony said "Fuck!" He fisted his hands into compact knots of tension.

"I do not understand wh-"

"He broke protocol." Natasha said evenly. "You both did. You shouldn't have left us. It was wrong."

"But, it was only for a moment-"

"And now you've seen what can happen in a moment!" She rebuked him with acidic censure. "You don't leave the unit. It was arrogant and now we don't know where Steve is. We don't know what the hell is happening to him." Her voice shook as her finger toyed with the rudimentary binding he'd wrapped about her hand. He had shown her a true love and gentleness in caring for her. Illness suddenly swept over her, her face blanched.

"He will bring him back. Loki wouldn't-"

"Wouldn't what? Wouldn't kill him? Wake up! You're brother isn't misguided he is a lunatic. He doesn't care if we live or die in the end as long as he- what I don't even know why he's really doing this to us." The words spilled out of Tony and he toed up to Thor, backing him against the bars, pinning him there with his words. "Maybe we're just animals to him and he likes to play with his food before he eats. I don't fucking know! Do you? Do you know why the fuck he's doing all of this? He's your brother after all."

"Steve will return." Thor said, each syllable hanging heavy in the air. "Just as you all have returned."

"None of us have ever been taken like this, stolen out of the cell. Loki always makes a point of taking us, make a show of it. You said the door just opened?" Natasha questioned.

"Yes."

"It wasn't just random. Why would he do that? He must have known you'd go to look. It's not right. Steve, he could be-" She broke off and the silence was filled with apprehension. Steve could be _dead_. She didn't realize how much they all relied on him, his quiet strength, until now.

"We do not know anything for certain yet." Thor reminded her, but his words lacked conviction. She was right, something was amiss.

"What about the other end of the hallway?" Tony said, his chest suddenly lighter. "Maybe he went to look for us, maybe he's just out there." As he started for the door it swung shut, the metal cacophony rang against the stones.

An abrupt tingling feeling like a comb of needles raking against her scalp made Natasha bite her lip. It was unlike anything she'd ever felt before; meaning it could only be one thing, magic, Loki's black magic.

"He's gone, Tony." She said to Tony, who stood at the bars peering into the emptiness.

Author: ARGH! Writer's block. Sorry for the short chapter, it just wasn't happening the way I wanted it to. I've been feeling kind of down about it lately, but tomorrow is another day.

More to come: Steve might be dead, Bruce comes out of hiding and Thor gets lured by Loki…

Please, please review, especially because I'm feeling a bit low on the inspiration right now. If I can get 4 solid reviews I'll have the chapter out by tomorrow and I promise it will be at least 1,500 words or more- I hate short chapters too.

Thanks for reading!


	19. Samson

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters.

Author: Thank you for reading! Big hugs-via-internet to HeartsNaruto, mellbell12123, lunarweather, ChaosBlack5711,Ice Jazz Elleth and abbi14 for your reviews and comments. Your support pushes me to try to take risks with every chapter, so thanks!

* * *

It wasn't until after the battle, the city strewn, smoking and crumbling around his feet, that Bruce realized there was no going back. It wasn't until after the exhausted, silent dinner of shawarma at that dingy, hole in the wall restaurant that made Bruce reconsider ingesting his dinner, that it dawned on him that he wasn't going to be able to run anymore. The world didn't have a place for him to run because he no longer felt lost. He couldn't hide in the shadows of the knowledge that he was an outsider, a freak, any longer. If their dysfunctional band didn't qualify as the UN of Outsiders he didn't know who would.

They climbed wordlessly into two of Stark Industries' private cars. Even Tony seemed beyond banter, no doubt lost in the thought that it was only by chance that he was with them. One second longer and he'd have been locked out of this word, drifting in the unknown space of a foreign planet. Bruce felt chilled by this notion, but there was a nagging curiosity too that never left him. He wanted to know more about Thor's world, his life. _There was more out there_, the thought made him quiver with an unquenchable thirst for knowledge. Bruce glanced to his left at Thor. Thor seemed utterly oblivious to his own special nature; totally nonplused at his status as a deity. Sitting in the rolling car, he seemed satisfied from the battle, even if his brother was the enemy; he seemed to take comfort in having done what he deemed just. Bruce couldn't comprehend his confidence in his power. He didn't seem at all embarrassed that he was different from them; instead Thor embraced it like he did everything.

There were no questions when they pulled up to the Tower and piled out of the cars. They were disheveled, but not broken. Tony, his quiet respite in the car over, led the way chatting animatedly to no one in particular. They took the elevator up and Bruce could really appreciate their hard work, the smell of sweat and blood was all the more pungent with them packed together in the enclosed space. Natasha's sharp shoulder brushed against his and their eyes met. Her eyes were veiled with fatigue, but no less stunning. She quirked a lip and looked ahead again. She did not show him fear, though she may have felt it and for that he was grateful. The elevator dinged. They poured out wordlessly, until they all rested in expansive living room. Bruce stayed by the door and watched them all collapse. Steve and Thor both knocked nearly knocking the fluff out of their mutual couches as they tossed themselves down. Tony passed around a glass and a bottle of scotch as Natasha slid into a leather chair, draping her athletic legs over one of the arms. Clint leaning on a nearby end table, turned to observe Bruce. He seemed to be looking into him, not just at him. His grey eyes were deft and cold, but not cruel as he assessed Bruce. Then he as if he'd answered his own question he turned from Bruce.

Everything about the scene frightened Bruce, but what scared him the most was that he wanted to be a part of it. There was an easy to their interactions, a bond. They passed the glass and the bottle of amber spirits around them, each part taking in the ritual. Steve took a polite gulp and looked around. His eyes lit on Bruce, still standing by the door. Bruce's limbs felt like water and his face colored slightly at being discovered. He passed his hand through his disheveled mop. Steve held out the empty glass, his pure blue eyes entreating, filled with warmth.

The others turned to look at him, their faces held his eyes with passive curiosity, but not judgment. They may not have understood or been able to articulate his feeling, but they respected whatever misgivings he had. They all had misgivings about the future in some way or another.

Bruce sighed and walked to Steve taking the glass from his hand. Steve poured what was left of the bottle into Bruce's glass and Bruce downed it in one swig, as Tony's eyes sparkled merrily at the mousey scientist's bravado. The drink burned its way down his throat, pooling like embers in his stomach and he thought he could almost hear The Other Guy scream, as if scalded. The screams were overshadowed by the clapping and laughter of the others. Thor's hand clapped him on the back as he bellowed an approving laugh and Natasha's calculating lips nearly smiled. He sat down in a chair beside Steve's and contemplated his feet. The minutes passed and a tired silence fell over them like a blanket. One by one they drifted to seek out an unoccupied bed in one of the innumerable rooms in Tony's abode.

At last it was only Tony and Bruce, the stars strung like silver bells outside in the magnificent navy sky. Bruce could feel Tony watching him, itching to speak. He turned to face the multi-billionaire. They couldn't have been more different. Tony was slick and loud, while Bruce was crinkled and painfully internal.

"What are you waiting for?" Bruce asked casually.

"For you to leave." Tony said matter-of-factly. Bruce's eyebrow's raised. Tony quickly corrected. "Excuse me, for you to _try _to leave."

"What?" Bruce asked nonchalantly, running his finger over the rim of the glass.

"You should stay." Tony said, then pressed on with calm resolve. "We're not afraid of you. We want you to stay."

"Right, maybe you just don't know that you should-"Bruce rebuffed.

"We need you to stay." Tony said firmly. Bruce's eyes were filled with shock and gratitude when he looked up, but Tony also saw fear. Fear of having a place. Fear of being needed. Fear that one day the uncontrollable part of you will destroy that place, that need, that love.

"We trust you, even if you don't trust yourself." Tony said. He allowed his words to hang in the air for a moment before diffusing them by getting up and shuffling off to his bed and Pepper. He planned on making love to her tonight despite his battle wounds. He needed to make her feel the immensity of what was in his heart for her. The immense weight of love that sent him plummeting back down to Earth and to her.

Bruce sat there stunned by Tony's words. He looked at his reflection in the vast glass wall of Stark Tower. He was going to leave and not come back. He was going to find a tiny village where he could hide in peace. He'd die there, happy and anonymous. He was going to escape and not look back, but the night gave way to morning like the turning of a page and he found he had not left. He'd stayed firmly in place.

When Tony entered the room, squinting from the ringing sunlight, he ambled over to the espresso machine and began to brew. He took out two small cups and saucers and placed them on the marble countertop.

"Want some coffee?" He asked over his shoulder. Bruce was silent, sure Pepper would soon round the bend.

"Bruce, want some coffee?" He asked turning to him. "I'll make it Irish if that's the kind of day you want to have."

Bruce, shocked at Tony's address, stumbled over his words for a moment. "Uh, yeh- coffee, sure, coffee is fine. Not Irish, is fine. Thanks." He said and Tony turned back to the machine humming.

He'd known Bruce wouldn't leave. He had a place now, they all did.

Bruce stretched and walked to the window with his hands tucked in his rumpled pant pockets. He gazed out at the city, observing it with fresh eyes.

* * *

He'd taken his sight. He'd taken his voice. He'd taken his limbs. All he had left was his mind, his memories and his strange bedfellow, who tore at him every second for release.

Bruce's arms tingled, from being bound for so long, his wrists were encircled by raw bands of flesh from scraping of the metal chains. He never pulled at them though; he tried to keep still, his body shaking with exhaustion and dread. The skull rattling dread of what The Other Guy might do if Bruce let his guard down.

Loki had told him what would happen if Bruce unleashed The Other Guy. He was like Samson, chained to the temple of his enemies. The only way to be liberated was to pull the chains, to let The Other Guy out, but that would mean certain death Loki told him, perhaps not for him, but for his friends. Tear down the roots of the pillars he was bound to and he'd tear down the building's heart, the binding's that kept it up. They'd be crushed alive.

Bruce's blindness kept him from seeing where he was, if he even stood between two pillars, but he had no evidence to refute Loki's claims, so fear forced Bruce to keep Him at bay. He knew they were there, his friends. He'd heard their screams, indistinguishable yells and the faintest weeping, though at times in his delirium he wasn't sure if was the sound of his tears or theirs. While their cries sickened him they also gave him hope. His friends lived. He had only to wait in the darkness. He'd wait for Loki to bring him into play. He knew he was a cog. He must be otherwise why not just kill Him? If Loki could subdue Bruce with magic and manipulation, then he could kill Him. He'd kept Bruce alive, tested his control every moment, it was anguish. The Other Guy rammed against the walls of Bruce's brain, gnawing like an animal at his fraying nerves, but Bruce clenched his eyes shut. He waited and recalled Tony's words like a prayer.

"_We're not afraid of you. We want you to stay. We need you to stay."_

He held on until Loki's sharp, measured footfall approached.

"_We trust you. We trust you. We trust you._"

Then a voice in the inky blackness drawled smoothly.

"Mr. Banner, you've been so very patient."

* * *

Author: Sorry I didn't update this weekend, I had terrible writers block and kept writing crap and I didn't want to post until I wrote something worth your time. I hope this was worth your time :).

Up Next: What Loki has been saving Bruce for, Steve..., Clint faces his team and much more…

Please review! I'd like at least four before I post again, if you're moved to review, that is. I won't say an exact time, but it will be before the weekend since I think I've overcome my block.

Thanks for reading! You guys make my day!


	20. The Rabbit Hole

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters.

Author: Please forgive my absence. Thank you for reading.

* * *

Steve woke to a gleaming black boot pressed firmly against his throat. He jerked his arms forward to relieve the pressure, but found his wrists were bound behind him. His eyes watered as his breath caught in his throat, whistling through his larynx with a hiss.

"What was it like at the bottom of the ocean?" Loki asked. Looking up at him Steve was struck by how skeletal Loki appeared all bones and shadows. His once bright eyes seemed like antique buttons that once gleamed, but were now dulled by time and wear. Loki took his boot from Steve's throat, but placed the head of his staff causally against Steve's shoulder. Steve was keenly aware that a slight shift and the blade would slice him.

Steve stared up at him, but said nothing. There were very few people he would speak to about what had happened to him in the deep and Loki didn't even come close to making the list.

"How long do you think they can hold on?" Loki asked. Drawing back his staff and turning his back to Steve, showing Steve he felt no threat of retaliation. Loki was in control, as ever.

"How long can you? You don't look so good, you know?" Steve said shifting to his side and raising himself up to a seated position.

Loki slipped his evergreen cape from his shoulders exposing his gleaming armor. It was as if his back was inlaid with strips of white gold, he moved with elegance, unencumbered by the weight of his hard shielding. He faced Steve and gracefully crouched on his hunches, lowering to Steve's level and looked at him, his eyes seemed to have a renewed vitality.

"You will fall to my divine purpose, long before I tire. You will all fall on your knees and beg before I am through. I am driven by destiny and truth. You are driven by an empty hope. Does it help you to cling to those thoughts? Do you feel emboldened now, to imagine escaping, saving your comrades?"

"My hope is not empty. Thor trusts_ us_, you'll never get what you're after because humanity is nothing like you say it is. Why don't you just admit what you want? Admit what you're really after!" Steve's voice soared in anger and he flexed his wrists against their binds to no avail.

"And what would that be, Captain?" Loki drawled venomously.

"You want feel like you're not alone. You need your brother to tell you you're not sick inside, not destined for hell."

Loki's eyes flickered, like light in a tunnel, a momentary flare in darkness.

"Such small minds you humans have. You've built ridged confines to protect yourself, but those walls are made of straw. Hell, heaven, money, sex- do you not feel suffocated?"

"Philosophizing won't change what you are Loki. You can try to deny it, but you're the one who is evil." Steve thought of Tony's shaking hands, the marks on Natasha's pale chest, Clint's stilled body. He felt true hate for the first time in his life. Loki had struck him on the home front, made it more than the simple desire for justice to be done. He_ hated_ Loki.

"You've been tending the wounded, I take it? It cannot be easy I imagine, to wait impotently until they return one by one- bloodied, marred, sullied by tortures of their own devising. Do you bathe them and pray over them? Offer to them what little comfort you are able? Do you allow them to weep without judgment?"

Steve looked away, livid.

"I take no pleasure in this." Loki said leaning on his staff and looking at the stone walls, his eyes suddenly swimming in an ocean, distant and hollow.

Steve saw sorrow darken the god's pale countenance, but the look was gone with the speed it appeared.

"I told you, there is a way to end it. You wish to be their savior, then a sacrifice will need to be made."

"No. I'll never do it. I told you that."

"Are their lives worth nothing to you? You'd risk their welfare, their sanity, their virtue to save one? What skewed, selfish moral paradigm do you prescribe to?"

Steve struggled to his feet and Loki closed the space between then in seconds. He gathered a handful of Steve's golden hair in his fist and arched Steve's neck painfully. Steve bit back a grunt; clamping his jaw shut he barred his teeth against the sting. Unlike his grip, Loki's words sounded tender, verging on a loved one's entreaties.

"Choose one. I will not renege on my word; I will let you go." Steve could feel Loki's cold breastplate pressing against his ribs. "But if you do not choose one, you will never see the light of day again. There is a well below this fortress, with smooth sides and so deep you see blackness, not the water below. If you do not choose, it will be your end. All you would know of the fate of your Avengers will be the echoes from their voices. You have pressed me against a ledge, I am on the brink, push me no further, Captain."

He unfurled his fingers from Steve's lock and then pushed him back lightly. Loki removed the Liberator from his hip and ran his fingers over the crude barrel.

"I am capable, I will do what needs be done. Do you understand?"

Steve's eyes were granite and unkind.

"Know this: I'm also on the edge, Loki. Don't push _me_ further, you will lose." Steve's voice rumbled steadily.

Loki looked momentarily taken aback by the unfeeling tone. He knew Steve was the moral compass, the rock at the center of the unit. He thought he'd break him by chipping all of the pieces around him. If he could get Steve to kill one of his comrades, even with his reasoning of freeing the remaining members, he could prove to Thor humans were everything Loki believed they were. No loyalty, no love, no freedom, just illusions constructed by their pathetic society. He could unmask them, show at the end of the day they were driven by the base instinct to preserve their lives and nothing more. Turning the most righteous would surely leave no doubt in Thor's mind that he had been wrong. Yet, Steve did not seem broken, but colder and more hardened. Loki doubted he could now make The Captain beg for his team has he had done before. He mistook Steve's heart for weakness, a nearly fatal miscalculation. More would need to be done to convince the 'fearless leader' to bend to his will.

"Do you require further incentive?" A coy smile played over Loki's thin lips, though it lacked its usual mirth and seem to Steve to be born of habit rather than genuine delight.

Loki turned on his heel and began walking. When he reached the far side of the domed room he placed the tip of the staff on the bland stone and cast. The stone seemed to melt from view. A lengthy hall way appeared, dotted with torches. Loki turned to him, his icy eyes filled with suggestion, then began to walk down the hall. Steve took a lungful of air and followed the god into the relative unknown. A childhood sentiment suddenly came to mind, "Down the rabbit hole.", as he strove forward into the murky tunnel.

* * *

Author: Thanks to Lunarweather, without you this wouldn't be here...

Next: Clint wakes up. What is down the tunnel? Thor turns to his brother and more...

Please, please do review. If there is maybe something you'd like more of or something you enjoyed in general let me know, I take your opinions into account when I write. Thank you for reading.


	21. The Hourglass

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters.

Author: To everyone who followed, favorite and review, thanks so much, it means a whole damn lot to me. And now… story time:

* * *

The torchlight had begun to dim slowly, nearly imperceptible changes in the strength of the flames, until some burned out completely and the passageway was freckled with posts bleeding a faint glow. Sometimes they snapped with a passing draft only to erect again a thin turret of orange, others remained doused.

Steve drew back his hunched shoulders and set his jaw. Loki walked at a swift, steady pace several yards ahead. He seemed to be ignoring Steve entirely as if he was taking a walk in a garden. Perhaps that was how Loki felt about it, but Steve's whole chest felt compressed with tension, his guts seemed to have coiled into taut bows. Steve knew there was only one line Loki had yet to cross- killing one of them.

Am I willingly walking to my death? Following my executioner obediently to the slaughter? He wondered.

There was no way of knowing, so he pressed on. After the torture his friends had endured, he couldn't think of anything worse that Loki could do to him compared to what they'd suffered. If they could survive it so could he.

As Loki neared the end of the tunnel, Steve slowed his pace, needing a few seconds more to steel himself.

"Mr. Banner, you've been so very patient." Loki's voice was like black silk.

Steve froze mid-step; an avalanche seemed to stop his path. _Bruce._ He never would have imagined, never could bring himself to. Bruce was his secret hope. No one had uttered a word about him since they'd been captured. The thought of his freedom was like a wish on a penny thrown in a well, once divulged impossible to come to fruition. In their minds he had been the last bastion of hope.

He was free. He'd find them. He'd save them.

But that was all gone. Their last card was played and the house was dominating.

Loki turned to look at Steve, his expression innocent, but he was carefully gauging Steve's reaction. A reaction that Steve couldn't disguise, he wasn't a spy like Clint and Natasha, what he felt showed on his face like words on a page.

All he could do was walk onward. When he crested the end of the hall, he saw Bruce, shackled between two thick stone pillars at the far side of the hall. Unlike the other rooms Steve had encountered in the fortress this one was made entirely of polished black marble. Even the floors were inky and gleaming. This was a room for ceremony; it was ruthlessly impeccable and threating in its hard lines. The uniformity of the chamber made it so it was difficult to tell where the walls met the floor. It was also lit differently, instead of rudimentary torches, there were large fireplaces on either end of the long rectangular alley, as well as large, glass vases each containing a multitude of candles, that were placed at random along the edges of the hall. It was beautiful and chilling.

Bruce had been blindfolded, gagged, and drawn between the two stone columns that stretched from the floor up to the ceiling, seemingly melting into the glossy blackness overhead. He looked utterly out of place in the sumptuous room, wearing a rumpled button-down and his khakis. Steve could see his limbs shaking even from a distance. Loki removed the tie from Bruce's mouth and Bruce's jaw popped as he stretched it.

"Loki" Bruce said, his voice came out cracked, not like he'd intended, an unexpected consequence of his hours of trapped silence.

"Mr. Banner. I've brought you a friend." Loki said as he circled back around toward Steve. Steve's spine went ridged when Loki placed a hand on his shoulder and whispered in his ear, "Do play nicely, Captain, or it will be the last mistake you ever make." With that Steve's hands released from behind his back and Loki pushed him forward.

"Bruce." He said strongly, trying to fill his teammate with hope, instead of the desolation that was written on the smaller man's face.

Bruce's head tilted to the side and his arm's rattled the chains, "Steve? Is that you? Jesus, thank God you're alive."

"You can go to him." Loki murmured as he swept passed Steve and whirled his staff in an arch. The chains binding Bruce to the columns suddenly poured out of the black stone, slackening the lines. Bruce let out a groan and crumbled forward.

Steve was with him, holding him up before his knees could clatter onto the hard floor. Steve slowly lowered his body to the ground, but did not try to pull away from Bruce whose fingers bit sharply into his back and upper arm. Bruce's head lolled on his shoulder and he puffed breath, exhausted from staying up right for days. Steve tried to imagine any of his fellow teammates reacting this way. They all had their flaws and had learned mechanisms to deal with them. Bruce wasn't like the others, he never had the pretense of being a solider or a killer. It was accidental that he had been cursed (or blessed, some might say) with his power. He showed the agony he was in, he didn't deflect or mask it.

Steve didn't understand; why not just break free of the chains? Why not use his power? There had to have been a reason, knowing Loki is was all part of his plans.

"Bruce? Are you hurt at all." Steve said clapping his large hands onto the man's back before gently drawing him back from the embrace.

"No. Nothing physical, Cap. Are you ok?" Bruce asked taking off the blindfold covering his eyes he blinked, even the firelight seemed to scorch his retina.

"Fine." Steve nodded briefly.

"And the others?"

"Alive. We're all alive."

"Jesus, what I've heard Captain, its, I thought-." Bruce began and then stopped abruptly and looked down at his bruised wrists.

"We're alive. I'm glad to see you are too, but why haven't-"

"Why haven't I let the Other Guy out?" Bruce interrupted.

He looked up and something swam in the depths of his warm brown eyes.

"I can't. If I let him out, I'll tear this place down, or so I've been told. I can't risk that, Cap, I can't be responsible for that." His eyes downcast and studied the floor.

Steve looked over his shoulder at Loki who stood before the fireplace with his back to him. Silhouetted against the flames he looked nonchalant, but Steve knew he was listening to every word.

"Bruce, how do you know that?" Steve asked.

"Loki told me when I first woke up."

"How do you know it's true though?"

"I can't be sure just by looking." Bruce said his voice tinged with frustration. "I'm a scientist, not an architect."

"I don't know, it just-"

"What do you want me to do? Try and see if it kills you all? I'll live you know that? I'd live if this building collapsed. I can't bear the idea of living the rest of my life knowing I killed you all on a whim. In science you tend to avoid uncalculated risks and letting the Other Guy out is beyond what I'd consider uncalculated."

Steve bit his lip. Bruce had a point, a damn good one. Steve was grappling with the idea of harming someone else for the good of the team and he could more than understand Bruce not wanting to do the same.

Loki suddenly turned and cast over Bruce. The chain's wound into the black marble, stretching his arms and raising him painfully.

"Hey! Stop!" Steve said attempting to help Bruce to his feet as he grunted as the chains nipped at the skin around his wrist.

"Are you comfortable, Mr. Banner?" Loki said drawing up against one of the pillars.

"Yeah, this is first class treatment." His voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Good. Do enjoy." Loki said and then began to walk toward the hallway.

"I'm not leaving him here." Steve said, setting his feet staunchly.

"Really?" Loki asked with amusement.

"No. I won't-"

"Steve. Its ok, go." He heard Bruce say softly behind him.

"No, I'm not going to leave you like this." Steve said turning to his friend.

"Find a way out of this Steve. Do what you have to get us out of here. Please. You have to do something. Leave me here and go to the others, they need you. I know you'll think of something. Do what you have to to get us out before he kills someone." Bruce's voice was strained from damning up the tears that glossed his eyes. He looked down and sniffed. "Go, Steve, please be fast, I'm afraid I can't hold on forever. Please hurry."

Steve placed his hand on his comrade's shoulder and squeezed. "Just hold on Bruce, we'll come for you."

"I know." Bruce breathed. "Now, go."

Steve walked down the hall with Loki following him at a respectful distance. It was only right after he'd dealt Steve such a blow. Loki didn't need to pontificate or explain what had just happened, Steve knew why. Knew what the purpose of that had been, the message was clear. Kill one or I'll have one kill you all.

Even after what Natasha and Tony had suffered, they'd kept on a brave face, pushing away Steve's attempts at consoling them, but not Bruce. Bruce was a raw nerve; open to the pain and fear. At the end of the tunnel, Steve stopped. He couldn't go forward, knowing the choice he had. His feet were bricked the ground. He jumped visibly when a cool, solid metal pressured him from behind and an arm wrapped around him steading his faltering, surprised feet.

"You know what is ahead of you: the undiscovered territory. You know what you must do." Steve looked down as something heavy shifted in his pocket. Steve could feel the metal against his thigh even through the thin cargo material. The Liberator felt weightier than ever. "I'll let you keep it, as a reminder. I doubt Mr. Banner can stand much longer. Two days is my presumption. So that is how long you have. Make a choice, or have one made for you."

Steve stood like a statue as Loki slipped around him and sauntered into the light of the domed room.

The hourglass had been turned and Steve could feel the grains cascading with each beat of his heart. He had to break it to free them. He had to destroy the hourglass and destroy Loki's plan and to do that he needed his team, he needed his Avengers.

* * *

Author: Sorry, work kept me from finishing this sooner, but since things are going to kick into high gear soon, it won't be near so long until I post next.

Coming up: Clint will be up next chapter and Thor goes to Loki for help…

Thanks for reading! Please review, I take it into account in my writing.


	22. The Little Deaths of the Remaining Few

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters.

Author: Thanks for sticking with me out there. You guys make it worthwhile.

* * *

The surface was steadily peaceful, altogether unbroken. He was below it thrashing, and reaching as if each second were the penultimate moment before the lights went out. He didn't want the air up top so much as the past. The past when he hadn't smeared the woman he loved 's blood on his lips. The past when he didn't hear the clacking of Natasha's teeth as she bit down to repress a howl. The past when there weren't holes in her body from his own weapon. He could see it now, down in the deep, released from the spell. Loki had blinded him during the act, blinded him to the reality of her pain and fear. His eyes saw a fantasy, like so many of his dreams of her. She'd been with him again in the room where they'd first met. She was with him, but she didn't laugh joylessly at the face of death. Her emptiness was gone; she was filled with love and open to him. There was only the sound of their breath and the heat of the match that burns down to the tips of your fingers. It was honesty he'd never felt. So honest it made him weep silent tears at their mutual culmination, the little death, before they collapsed into each other. But then Loki allowed him to be released, to see the reality was a grotesque parody of the scene he'd experienced.

He never wanted to come up for air. He wanted to stay deep down forever in the pitch.

* * *

Thor's body felt ache for perhaps the first time, it was unfamiliar and unpleasant. God's felt pain as it was part and parcel with the existence of almost all life, no matter how long or short, but aching was not something he'd known. His muscles felt raw and heavy as he lifted himself stiffly from the floor. Tony sat by the cell door, the one that had led to the winding staircase. He'd been staring out it since they returned. His eyes unfocused, seeing nothing but the film of what-ifs that played on a loop in his skull. And why not? He was a lauded genius and inventor, it was his job to be able to see the next step, but he'd been outplayed. So as Thor rose he didn't even look at bother to look at him. There was nothing for him now but to live and to think. Without his suit all he had were his wits. If Steve was - he had to do something. He knew he wasn't the man for the job, that man had disappeared due to his arrogance, so now it was left to him. He had keep them together. Tony had checked Clint's vitals before he'd taken his watch beside the bars, his pulse was strengthening and the swelling around his eye had greatly dissipated, though purplish bruises were beginning to be patched across his arms, chest and jaw. Tony prayed he'd wake soon. As long as the damage wasn't to his brain he could wake at any moment, but if it was internal he might never open his eyes again. Tony had no way of knowing, all he had was time to wonder. If Clint did wake, then Tony knew he could move to the next problem: figuring out how to deal with that.

When Thor raised himself to full height his vision was suddenly crowded by momentary shadow. His head seemed light and he pressed his back against the wall for support. His time was running out. Loki wasn't going to kill him, but the magic he was employing to control Thor's power seemed to sap his strength continually. Soon he might be too weak to attack effectively when the moment arose. This weakness was foreign to him. Thor shook his head and pressed off the wall. He walked towards the domed room, careful not to disturbed Natasha who slept curled into herself. Her knees tucked up close to her chest and her hair falling into her face. Thor bent beside her and brushed the hair from her face. Her soft skin was pale and blemished with grime and blood.

Thor could barely look at her without remembering her body contorting in anguish as she vainly tried to resist Clint. Loki. He knew it was Loki, but he could not understand it, there were lines beyond what magic could ever force him to cross. He'd sacrifice himself before letting anything like that happen to his beloved Jane.

Looking at Natasha's placid face he knew what he must do. Perhaps he should have done it a long time ago, before his dear friends, indeed very his charges as Earth's protector, had met with such torment.

He stood on his noble legs and walked with head high to the bars.

"Loki." He said calmly, not raising his voice to wake Natasha. "Loki, brother, I wish to speak with you. I wish to be beside you again. Please do not deny me this request."

Thor looked out into the shadows and the stretch of dim light from the domed room. He waited for several moments, barely able to breathe. Then a shadow cut through the light.

The lean and hungry figure appeared in evergreen and silver. Loki smiled like a knife, but for the first time Thor could see it was drawn from true joy.

Loki put his hand through the bar, cupping Thor's face gently.

"Brother, you asked for me. I have come."

His blue eyes searched Thor's face, who spoke with downcast eyes.

"Brother. Free me from my bonds, from this prison. I wish to speak with you as an equal. I have been stubborn- as you know I often am. I no longer wish to wallow in this place. Let me listen to your reason away from here. Let me see if I can reconcile your teaching with my conscience."

Loki's eyes were glassed with emotion.

"Brother. Your reason will buy you freedom from this cell, but the bonds shall remain until I am convinced you have truly seen the truth."

Thor nodded and pressed his face into his brother's palm.

Tony listened to the exchange in frozen horror. He stayed leaning against the bars as the cell door creaked open and he heard Thor's feet scuff the stone as he exited. The door gave a resounding bang and Tony's eyes shut out the light. This is as low as it gets, he grimaced inwardly.

Then he heard Clint groan.

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Author: Sorry this is so short and kind of all over the place. I will update before the Friday since this chapter was supposed to be all about Clint and then I realized I needed to deal with Thor before waking him up. Plot- don't you hate it sometimes?

Up next: Clint (for real) wakes up, Steve and that Liberator, a pool of water and much more.

Please, please review. It makes my heart sing. Thanks for reading!


	23. Toeing the Abysm

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters.

Author: Thanks for the reviews, favorites and follows and continued support!

* * *

The first sliver of light that poured through the darkness behinds Clint's eyes was the worst. His exhalation quickly morphed into a guttural disclaimer of resentment. He resented the light and the intrinsic knowledge that he lived, despite everything.

He rolled gingerly onto his side. Every muscle yawned, stretched with throbbing. His face felt like it had been filled, pressure bloomed over his eye, which opened but not quite fully. He ran his hands over his bristled cheeks but stopped when he smelt iron.

Her blood or mine? He wondered, detached from it all for a moment.

Then the floor beneath him gaped like a hang dog's jaw.

He broke into a cold sweat, a bead dripped off his nose. He turned onto his aching hands as the first wave of bile pushed through. Tears and snot ran out of him and he rocked. He didn't want to be touched. He didn't want to be comforted- didn't deserve to be. It was as if his body was trying to rid itself of everything, to kill him from the inside out. Eventually there was nothing left and Clint wretched up empty air, his hands clawing through his jeans.

He sat back kneeling when it subsided. He shook weakly and clutched his arms to his torso, holding himself because there was no one else to. He was dimly aware of the sound of cloth tearing and then a hand wiped his eyes then nose. Clint stared forward at the blank wall.

Even though he knew he wasn't alone, Tony's whisper made his shoulders skip in surprise.

"Clint."

Clint's muddled fingers gnawed at his ribcage and he gazed unblinkingly forward.

Tony wasn't Steve or Thor or even Natasha at certain times. He didn't know how to do this. Usually he'd hang back and give someone space. He'd let Steve do his Captain America thing and make the world a better place. Steve fixed things. Tony usually wouldn't make a move until he could tell a situation needed his special brand of snark and firepower. But Steve was gone. Tony didn't have the luxury of being Plan B anymore; he all that was left.

The look on Clint's face was gruesomely blank. He was shattered and Tony knew it was a dangerous feeling for a man. A man who looks that empty can't be long for this world. Everything Tony'd felt, the hot steel of anger that had flushed him when Thor told him it was Clint who'd hurt Natasha, dissipated when he looked at Clint's deadened expression. He needed to help Clint, to bring him back from the brink he was toeing before it was too late. Clint was his comrade. He remembered the first time he'd met Clint after the attack on the hellicarrier. He thought Clint was just another ram-rod spined agent. Tony couldn't have been more wrong. Clint was a passionate fighter and his wit was even quicker than his arrows. He'd saved Tony's life more than once in battle and was perhaps the only member of the team that possessed anything close to what Tony could constitute as an appreciation for sarcasm. Clint wasn't just a fellow fighter, he was a friend and Tony would be lying if he said he didn't need Clint as much as Clint needed him. Tony couldn't take another person disappearing on him and the human race itself couldn't afford the loss of Clint's strength in the coming battle.

"Clint." Tony said again softly. He was acutely aware that he could not wake Natasha. He knew that her presence would push Clint farther into the darkness, burying him beneath his guilt.

Clint blinked and his eyes refocused. "Just go away, Stark."

Tony sighed inwardly. "He speaks; I'm glad."

"I said go." His voice was a bullet logged in the barrel.

"I heard what you said, but f you didn't notice we're locked in a cell. Where am I supposed to go?"

Clint shook his splitting head in annoyance. He wanted Tony to leave him. He wanted the world to leave him. Why the fuck did I have to wake up? He wondered.

"Clint, look, I know you never meant to do it."

"Stark, I-." His words damned in his throat.

"I'm no moral paradigm, you know that. I won't sit here in judgment of you, I don't have the right and you don't deserve that. I understand science, it's kept me alive. Loki, what he comes from, it's beyond any of us. I can't say the same wouldn't have happened to me. You need to let it go."

Clint bowed his head and his shoulders quavered. Tony placed a hand on the archer's thick bicep, to support him and hopefully assuage the tears; Tony had never been a fan of seeing a man cry. The noise that bubbled from Clint's lips wasn't weeping, but a hollow laugh. It rippled through his stomach, clapped his lungs and swept over his lips like the vomit he'd extolled minutes earlier. Tony drew his hand back, he felt something akin to fear needle his spine.

"I wanted to do what I did. I saw a dream I'd had of her in my mind, a fucking wet-dream. I wanted her. I finally got what I always wanted."

"Clint, it wasn't your fault. I know you didn't know what was really happening. You wouldn't have done that if you could see the reality. You were under the spell. It wasn't you."

Clint turned to him, his eyes deep pockets of darkness in his face.

"How'd you feel when you saw her after? Mad? Are you mad that I was the first one between her legs? Mad that I got what you wanted before you? The genius, millionaire Tony Stark, gets everything he wants, but never her. I've seen the way you look at her. You may not have pretensions of love, but if you could, you'd fuck her in a heartbeat. I did it. Does that burn you up? I liked it. I'd do it again. Maybe I will. You can't trust me. Don't you ge-?"

Tony reacted suddenly, faster than Clint would have ever though him possible, fueled by rage and a hint of dread. Tony grabbed Clint by his hair and shouldered him against the bars, until he was trapped between the cold metal and Tony's forearm applying consistent pressure to Clint's throat.

"You're reaching for air, Clint."

"Am I?" Clint wheezed, his eyes never leaving Tony's.

"Did you really think that would work?" Tony asked. "You think I'm some idiot? Think I don't know that you want to die right now?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Clint breathed.

Tony moved to the side so that Clint could look beyond him into the cell. Clint's eyes lit on Natasha's slumbering figure. She looked profoundly beautiful even in sleep, with mire on her face and swaddled in an oversized shirt; nothing could diminish her.

His eyes burned and budded.

"Look at her and tell me again you wanted to do it. Tell me it wasn't Loki- that it was you who wanted to hurt her."

Clint's head sagged and tear's dripped onto Tony's forearm.

"It was worth a shot." Clint mumbled ruefully.

"If it was someone else, you might have had a chance, but you picked the wrong tactic to use on me. I'm Tony Stark, remember? 'Genius millionaire', billionaire by the way, only a dumbass would believe what you said. I won't kill you Clint, maybe someone will, but it sure as hell isn't gonna be me."

Clint lifted his head and for the first time since he opened his eyes Tony saw a glint. It came and went, but it was enough for Tony to feel there was some chance of restoring Clint.

"I didn't want to wake up." Clint said looking at his hands, it was easier than being honest to someone's eyes.

"I know. I can't blame you. It's been getting lonely up here." Tony said, frightened by his own truth.

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Author: Aaaaarrrrggggghhhh. That is how writing this chapter made me feel. I really hope you liked it because I started it about four times and I'm still not sure I got it right

Upcoming: Steve confronts Thor's betrayal, truth about Natasha is revealed to Steve, Clint slips deeper, a pool of cold water, and much more.

Please, please review. Thanks for reading!


	24. Turnabout

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters.

Author: I missed this.

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When Loki entered the domed room with Thor in tow he smiled at Steve, who had found his way to the far edge of the room where he'd begun to inspect the walls for weaknesses. He turned when he heard Loki's clacking boots on the swirling planes of wood. Steve's expression was one of a child being caught touching their father's prized cufflinks. Steve snatched his nimble fingers from the wall and straightened his spine, but his face was strained with guilt. He smoothed a hand through his tawny hair and tried to appear natural in his unfamiliar surroundings.

"Looking for something?" Loki prodded gently, flashing his brilliant teeth; both predatory and sensual.

"No." Steve replied bluntly, but his face burned unbidden.

Thor had drawn up beside Loki and something in Steve's mind rang an alert. Thor didn't look at him; he kept his eyes on his brother like a violinist watching for a sign from his conductor. His broad shoulders were not thrust back with their usual pride and strength, but hunched. His wrists were still encircled by the bracelets that Loki had fashioned to repress his god-like strength, but he was neither bound nor gagged in any other manner.

"What do you think of him brother? Do you admire his earnest hope? I leave the room for a moment, surely to return, but like a rat in a maze he begins to search for an exit all the same. As if he has the faintest hope of escape, as if he doesn't know he is a rat at all. How curious these humans are, brother. How curious, indeed."

"Yes." Thor looks down, studying the sinews of his hands. Loki watched him for a moment, before looking at Steve. A lesser man would shudder to be fixed with a penetrating stare the immortal gave him, but he did not buckle beneath Loki's cold glare. Still, he did steel himself. The air had changed in the room. Steve could tell something is going on between Thor and Loki and he knew he may end up as collateral damage if he did not watch his step.

"What do you propose brother be done with him? He is their beacon. If you profess to agree with me, to wish to learn my ways, then prove yourself and tell me what fate you think befits such a man. Tell me." Loki whispered in his brother's ear. Thor's cobalt eyes swam and the hair on the base of his skull bristled as Loki's warm breath swept over his neck.

Thor looked up and stared into Steve's eyes for the first time, blue meeting endless blue. Steve's expression did not appeal, or beg, but simply was; accepting of what anguish might come at the hands of his comrade or his enemy. There was no resignation in his stoic expression, but resolution to continue to exist, despite what Loki's designs. For a moment, Thor's heart swelled in admiration, so much he was nearly chocked, but it quickly dissipated. He'd admired his enemy before, but that admiration did not compel him to shy away from his duty.

He glanced at Loki. "What befits such a man, you ask? Brother, a man of such arrogance, inexcusable vanity, deserves to be instructed in humility. He is like so many grand leaders, he stands by as his army is decimated, but does nothing. I will show you, Loki, what befits him."

Thor began taking measured steps toward Steve who stood still watching his approach with growing anxiety. He hadn't been able to hear the hushed exchange between Thor and Loki, but something in Thor's hard-edged expression filled him with uncertainty.

"Thor-" Steve began when Thor was within arm's length. He held out a hand as if it could wipe off the dark expression masking his friend's face.

Thor moved like the lightening that came with his tremendous thunderclaps. Before Steve could breathe Thor was behind him twisting his arm until it felt like it might break. Thor then used his superior height and weight to kick into the back of Steve's leg, bringing Steve to his knees, a grunt escaped his lips as Thor seized a thick handful of blonde hair and jerked back so that Steve's throat was exposed. The pulse point on Steve's delicate neck hammered at freight pace.

"What befits him, you asked?" Thor's thick voice boomed in the domed room. "Would you have me end this now?"

Thor's eyes challenged Loki's, but his brother could see no true malice in his brother's eyes. Loki did not like to be deceived.

Blood howled in Steve's ears. _Not like this._ He thought._ Not after all the war and the ice, to die like this_. He'd been submitted by Thor before while sparring. Even with the bracelets repressing his raw strength, Thor's grip made his spine feel like a sparrow's egg. Steve began to thrash. _Not like this. Not like this._

Thor's grip lessened just the faintest bit and Steve seized his chance. He reached up with his free arm and tore his finger's blindly into Thor's face. Thor released him and stepped back bellowing hearty laughter as he touched his cheek and neck where Steve had clawed him.

"There is still fight in you yet, Captain." Thor smiled ruefully as he sized up Steve who'd risen to his feet.

Steve was aware of Loki to his side, he could feel his eyes devouring the scene before him, but he didn't spare the god of mischief even a half-hearted glance. For all that Loki had done to batter his team, Steve now knew Loki had planned this attack from within and he would get now satisfaction from interfering. Loki's triumph would be to see his brother believe him so much that he'd take on Steve, a friend and leader.

Thor's stance was steady and poised to attack. He tossed his hair from his face and squared his shoulders to face Steve, almost imperceptibly crouching. Steve's fingers twitched waiting, like a quarterback just before the snap. Thor made the first move, hurtling forward at Steve with a warlike cry that shook the stones of the fortress. Steve dodged to the side at the last second, but Thor foresaw his move, and like lightening, pivoted to the left, tumbling his weight into Steve's frame, felling them both like massive sun-bleached oaks. They landed in a tangle of elbows and knees and rolled until, Thor's weight on Steve and a well-aimed hook to the Captain's jaw stalled their progress. Thor's forearm blocked a retaliatory blow from Steve and his free arm enacted vengeance in the form of a punch to Steve's temple that reduced the Captain's sight to shades of golden torchlight and pits of darkness.

Steve slackened in Thor's grip. He wouldn't fight his teammate. He had to trust. He had to hope. In his clearing vision he could see Thor's shadowed face not but inches from his own. Though he couldn't help but shudder slightly when he realized the warmth sliding off his brow and over his hair was his blood.

"Thor you can't do this. You know your brother is wrong. Look inside your heart. Think of us, think of Jane. You know there is goodness in humanity and in yourself. Don't lose sight of that."

Thor leaned in, bracing himself on Steve's shoulder and arm, pressing them painfully.

"Can you stand against the rising tide? Who among you can stand against the ocean of fire come to sweep over your land? Will you? Will you stand against the flames? Ask the others, 'Who will stand in the mouth of fire?'" Thor whispered, his lips nearly grazing Steve's ear. Then Thor pulled back and looked at an attentive Loki. "He waits for his death. He does not fight me. I-I cannot do this- I-"

Thor's brow knit and he rolled off Steve, coming to his knees a few feet away.

"No, brother, he does not surrender- he _hopes._ He refuses to fight you because he knows you will not murder someone who does not fight back. You are a prince of Asgard, not an animal like these humans. As it is, I do not think it will serve us to kill him."

Steve's overwrought shoulders slumped an inch as he stood to face Loki.

"They will do better to stand as an example to their race. With their submission on display what human will not lay down his arms?"

"Like our people?" Thor asked glancing at Steve. "…The Atonement?"

Loki's eyes glittered like ice.

"Yes, brother, 'wash away what once was and clothe them in what will be'."

Thor's hands seemed to shake slightly.

"Brother that is old ritual. It is not-."

"Would you rather they all died? You may have bared your teeth to prove your loyalty brother, but I know you still have a softness in your heart for these creatures. I still wonder about your supposed loyalty."

The cut on Steve's head stung as he swiped the blood from his temple. He head still spun, but the fear was overwhelming the pain at the moment. Soon the adrenalin would ebb away and he'd feel the real force of the god's blows. He wasn't sure how much longer he could stand. He had to get back to the cell, before he collapsed.

"I'll rejoin my team now." He said, both Thor and Loki snapped to look at him. "I imagine they think I am dead and I'd like to prove them otherwise."

Loki chuckled.

"You'll be with them soon enough." He turned to Thor. "In twos, will be best. My servants will take the Captain back as he has requested. I will conjure the plane of water and we will take them in pairs when it is all prepared."

As the figures appeared beside Steve and clasped his arms he stole a glance at Thor. Though he looked composed, Steve could see the towering god's hands shaking ever so slightly before curling into tight fists at his sides.

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Author: Sigh. I wanted to keep going, but the chapter ended.

Please, please review! To be bit vulgar- I am somewhat like a 'lady of the night'- you review, I put out (as in write more :)

Thanks for reading! Coming up: The plane of water, Clint tries to take the easy way out, Thor proves his loyalty, and much more.


	25. Risk

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters.

Author: Thank you to everyone who reads for the support!

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Natasha rarely dreamed, but sometimes she remembered.

The evergreen coat and black leather gloves her mother wore in winter. The scent of pastries being baked in the shop below her parent's meager apartment. The nimble tinkle of the piano keys she tried to master to no avail.

Clint.

The time they neared the precipice of admitting what was between them only the fade into silence. They'd been surrounded by that deafening silence of words that stuck to the timber of coffins, never to be heard.

It was after Loki's failed plan and after the Avenger's had gathered. They weren't two anymore. They were many and in some ways that was good. He didn't feel sick at night before missions worrying that if he got hit, that no one would have her back. She had people to watch her back. She wouldn't be alone if he didn't come home. It was a bittersweet relief. He did miss it just being to two of them, but he had carried such dread in his heart that if he were killed she'd have to go it alone like she used to. When he brought her to Shield he'd taken it upon himself, an unspoken pact, that he was responsible for her. He couldn't leave her like he'd found her- on the run with the walls closing in.

After the mission Clint had been gripping his bow so tight his knuckles were white, still he held back his frustration. Clint's small flame of anger erupted when the door nearly closed on him as he followed several steps behind Natasha as they entered the kitchen of Stark Tower.

"Hey, Romanoff!" The door bucked against the wall with a thwack when he flung it back. His bow clattered to the ground.

She walked ahead of him flanked by Bruce, who jumped a bit and halted at the crack of the door meeting the wall.

He seemed to guard himself for a moment before glancing at Natasha, checking her reaction to Clint's call.

Steve, who had been pouring himself a glass of water, smoothly placed the pitcher on the counter with an nearly inaudible sigh. He leaned at the edge of the elegant marble island with the chilled glass of water in his hand. By all appearances he was impartially viewing the goings on, but that was not how Steve worked. He was watching avidly, ready to step in and quell an argument if it looked like it might go too far. Even after a mission, Captain's work was never done.

Natasha shot him a look as she walked by. Steve inclined his head in the slightest, as if to say, "Please, have a fight, don't mind me." Natasha hated that look, mainly because it pointed out her own failings. You don't fight your teammates- you fight the enemy, anything else is a waste of breath.

Bruce ambled past Natasha and opened the refrigerator. He took out a golden apple and sat on a bar stool at the end of the island. He felt it was best to observe two assassins feuding from a safe distance.

"Romanoff, are you really going to ignore me right now?" Clint stood his ground as Natasha poured a small glass of milk. "Agent?"

Natasha looked up as if she's been jabbed in the spine with a needle, but didn't turn to face Clint.

"We have nothing to discuss. The bad people are dead; that was the mission. Let's just leave it."

"No, let's not. You made a stupid move out there- a fucking cowboy move. I had the mark. I could have done it." Clint said taking a step forward, only to have his progress impeded by Steve's words.

"Clint. We're all ok, that's what is important." Steve said.

Clint looked at him as if he'd only just realized Steve was standing there.

"Yeah, Cap, that is exactly what I'm talking about: people could have been hurt."

Steve turned and gave Bruce a bemused look, but Bruce who had been near Clint and Natasha when the mark had been taken down had a sudden moment of clarity. To the casual observer, Clint was ticked off because he didn't get to kill the mark and Natasha had stepped in and done it instead- emasculating him and making him look like an amateur. But the truth was much more complicated.

Bruce slid off his barstool and motioned for the Cap to follow him. Steve glanced between them for a second before relinquishing and following Bruce to the elevator. In his present state of mind, Clint was glad to see him go. Clint respected Steve a great deal and knew not many people would have been so trusting of Clint given the circumstances under which they first met, but sometimes Clint was afraid of the way Steve looked at Natasha. Clint was certain Steve was unaware of it, but Clint could tell, even if Steve couldn't, that Steve felt a bit more deeply for Natasha than the rest of his company. Part of it may have just been the old fashioned way he approached the world, but at times like these, when his adrenalin was up, Clint feared it was more than that.

Clint waited until the doors dinged open and slid closed before he advanced.

"Nat, look at me."

She faced him with a sigh.

"You and I both know I was going to get that shot. Why the hell did you break formation? If Hulk hadn't happened to be there you might not have made it back. Jesus! I mean do you want to end up with your head split open?! Is that it?!"

Natasha's gaze was steady and clinical as Clint raged at her.

"Are you done?" She asked.

Clint's chest pulsed as he drew breath trying to calm himself.

She took him in for a moment. She seemed to feel nothing for him, like he was a total stranger to her. But Clint knew beneath the control there was chaos.

"Sure." He nodded.

She picked up her glass and began to move past him.

In the tight quarters, even though Natasha saw his hand reach out before he touched her; he grabbed her forearm before she could stop him. The glass of white liquid smashed on counter and Natasha growled. She turned and twisted her arm, breaking Clint's grip, but he countered by cuffing her cheek and using his body weight to effectively trap her against the cold marble island. Natasha could have swept her leg out and knocked him over, but he was in a fighting mood and she wasn't. She didn't want to destroy the whole kitchen over their disagreement. She'd let him have his say if it got him to back off.

"Are you going to list-"

"Yes, Barton, you have my un-fucking-divided attention."

He leaned back a bit, but left his hands on either side of her, blocking her in.

"Look at me and tell me, you thought I didn't have the shot. Tell me you were one hundred percent sure?"

Natasha looked at the smashed fragments of glass on the counter.

"Nat?"

"What? I'm not one hundred percent sure, ok? Nothing out there is one hundred percent- you take risks-"

"That wasn't a risk, Romanoff, that was suicide. If Cap had seen I wouldn't be the only one-"

"It's fine. We made it why won't you just let this go?"

The apples of her cheeks were painted with the faintest rose as she sought to control her anger.

"Because you almost got yourself killed today, over something that I was in control of."

"You don't know that- they were closing in. _You_ were the one being a fucking cowboy! Not me. I don't want to have to watch yo- " She broke off suddenly.

Clint leaned back and removed his arms. He nodded. It was what he had thought- what he was afraid of- she'd been trying to protect him. Ever since he'd been 'compromised' she'd been taking risks on missions. The kind of risks the Natasha he's first met would have laughed at: the kind of risks that have more to do with someone's heart than their head. This final mission had confirmed what he'd been noticing.

"You can't do that, Nat. You're right, we take risks in the field, but you have to trust. You can't endanger yourself." He said, sparing her humiliation and not finishing his last sentence with "for me"- which he now knew was exactly what she'd been doing. She was taking risks for him.

"Yeah." She said and looked at him defiantly, her jade eyes like twin embers.

Clint took a step toward her and reached his hand out. Before his fingertips touched her face, he felt a gentle resistance wrap around his wrist. She held him with her hand and looked into his eyes, anger gone, something else, deep enough to swallow them both replaced it.

"Clint." her voice was thick. "I know."

Then she released his wrist and slid past him like a ghost. She walked rigidly to her room. She shut the door behind her and slid down against it. She sat pooled on the ground until the light faded and the stars stretched themselves over the night.

Suddenly, there was tumult. Natasha had a moment, sitting on the floor of her room, when memory met reality and she realized she was not there. That she was dreaming. Then she felt an otherworldly pull on her arms. More yelling. She heard Tony's voice first, then Clint's. She was turned and jostled. Then she opened her eyes.

It was dim and loud in the small cell. A strong arm had her around the waist and another looped under her arm pit. She hissed in pain and tried to get purchase of the ground as the figure behind her pulled her back into the relative darkness. She twisted her head up and saw Clint was holding her. Sweat immediately swept over her as adrenalin coursed through her. She moved void of reason, puppeted by instinct, digging her heels into the ground and wrenching her arm free from his grasp. There was commotion and shouting, but the need to escape blinded her to details. Someone shouted her name, from a vague point. She ignored it and turned and struck out at Clint, surprising him with her suddenness; his eyes filled with tears. He released her and she backed away, collapsing when she put her full weight on her injured leg. She was suddenly met with new hands, strong and slim. She looked up and saw blackness. Loki's masked specter, gripped her around the waist, locking her arms in his grasp. She was temporarily blinded by the pain of the specter pressuring her wounded arm, but she managed to choke out a grunt- not a scream.

She kicked her legs ineffectually as she was dragged from the cell; shouting still erupting from within the bars.

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Author: So the end of this chapter may not make sense until I write the next one. If you're confused, I apologize, but next chapter should clarify what was going on. I'm sort of playing with time here, so I'll go back and write the scene from another perspective next chapter, which should help explain what Natasha was experiencing.

Sorry, if I were a great writer I wouldn't have to explain my story, but the fact is, I'm a work in progress :)

Up next: The Atonement, Clint checks out early, Steve and the Liberator, Tony's plan and much more

Please, please review! I love to hear what you think or what you want more of. Thank for reading!


	26. Blinded

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters.

Author: I'm not sure how I feel about using fanfic as a platform to recommend music, but Yiruma's piano piece _When the Love Falls_ heavily influenced this chapter.

* * *

Steve had hoped he could convince Thor, if there was any semblance of an ally in him, to leave the rest of the team alone. They weren't strong enough yet for whatever Loki had planned. He would beg if need be- if it would save them pain. If that didn't work, he'd ask Thor to only take Tony for now, Tony had had time to recuperate from his ordeal and before he'd been taken Steve had seen the color returning to his face. He worried Natasha and Clint were both still too injured to face a fresh trail so soon.

But Steve never had the chance to argue, because before they'd taken three steps Loki's stopped them.

"On second thought, bring the lot. I want them all to witness the trial."

Thor nodded stiffly.

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As soon as the figures obscured the honeyed light from the domed room, Clint and Tony were on their feet. Clint pulled himself up with the aid of the iron bars and Tony's forearm. He clutched onto the rung to keep himself upright even as black flecks peppered his vision.

_Too much, too fast and I'll be out like a light again._ He grimaced inwardly.

Tony advanced a bit toward the front before being shocked into stillness. He'd never admit it to anyone, but his eyes burned at the sight of Steve Rogers flanked by four masked specters. He was a bit worse for the wear, his face nicked and his shoulders more tense than usual, but he lived and the weight of Tony's gratitude nearly collapsed him. He believed he could have done it- could have saved his team, but he didn't want to have to, because that would mean that Steve was dead. For all their divergences, there were few that Tony trusted more with his life and the lives of those he loved than the Captain. Tony looked passed Steve and saw Thor, but the god refused to meet his eyes.

Tony had worked with enough military personnel to know that what happened next was what a tactician would term as a 'blitz'.

Just as Tony began to move forward again, the cell door burst open and a white blast knocked him back against the opposing cell bars. In a blink two specters were inside the cell, advancing.

"Tony?" Clint snapped, fear rushing out of him like blood from a punctured artery.

Tony held up a brief hand to show he was still awake. Tony's head lolled to the side and he saw Clint break from his hold on the bars and lung forward, still graceful even with his injuries. He yelled Natasha's name to wake her as he flipped her sleeping body over and hoisted her in his arms, dragging her away from the specters with clenched teeth. Tony moaned as he stood. The specter nearest to him reached out suddenly; grabbing him by the arm and thrusting him forward onto his knees.

"Fuck!" He yelled as his knees smashed into the stone. He looked to his side and saw Natasha strike Clint and spin away from him, crashing directly into to the waiting arms of a specter.

"Natasha!" Tony yelled, trying to warn her, but he was too late. The specters pale fingers dug into her already battered arms and she was quickly dragged away. Her eyes were wild as she was taken, no doubt still not really knowing where she even was since she'd woken.

Then there was pain in the back of his calf as the specter's heel dug into his leg. He twisted to push it off, but his wrists were captured in cold metal before he could do anything. To his right he could hear Clint screaming Natasha's name and cursing. Tony continued to struggle against the metal binds on his wrist.

_This is it._ He thought. Thor had turned to his brother's side. Loki had what he wanted. They had served their purpose. All that was left was to kill them.

Beside him Clint screamed. He looked over to see blood pouring from Clint's mouth. The assassin spat out two teeth. Then there was darkness. A crude black cloth tied tightly over Tony's brown eyes, masking his sight. He yelled too, and bucked catching the specter unaware and loosening its hold temporarily. Outside the cell, Natasha's foreign tongue spat venom, but Tony couldn't miss how her curses seemed to pour from her lips like weeping. Every so often he thought he could make out Steve's voice cutting through the commotion, attempting to quell the tornado of violence.

Tony tried threw and elbow as much as his chains would allow and then pushed the blindfold off his eyes- just in time to see the back of the specter's forearm before it darkened his vision with a wave of bruising pain.

Tony crashed to the ground feeling a familiar dullness that accompanied most head injuries. The cloth was replaced and he felt himself being pulled to his feet and walked out of the cell.

"I'll kill you! I swear I'll- Fuck!" Clint's cries sounded distant as Tony was dragged from the cell.

_This is it_. Tony thought._ This is how we die._

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It took the full strength of both Thor and a specter to restrain Steve. At this point he knew fighting was futile, he knew there was no victory to be had by his rushing into the cell and breaking the bones of the specters, but he wanted to. Seeing the blood of his team spilt made him want to spill blood- he wanted to protect them, but a part of him wanted vengeance too. He wanted vengeance for having to hold Natasha down after he woke her from her nightmare with her shirt soaked through and her skin clammy. He wanted vengeance for having to cradle Tony's head to keep it from falling in the toilet and drowning on his own vomit after he went on a bender. He wanted vengeance for having to chase Bruce down when he ran away. He wanted vengeance for having to drag Clint away from the fights he'd pick just so he could feel pain and inflict it in turn. Even if they made it out now, they'd still been damaged and Steve wanted someone to pay.

Natasha was the first out of the cell, her face pale was like bone.

"Natasha." He said. She twisted her head to look as him and he saw all the gunmetal of her ruined childhood crystalized for a moment those green eyes. Then the specter threw her to the ground and chocked shriek erupted from her as buckled onto the warm wood planes. Steve's reason shattered at the sound. With a sudden surge he brought his elbow into Thor's throat and kicked the specter to his left, sending it careening to the floor; its limbs cycling like a pinwheel.

When he reached her the specter that had removed her from the cell had already succeeded in blindfolding her. Crumpled on the ground she looked dead, but Steve could see her hands tremble. He shoved the specter to the side and gathered her to him. She flinched and cried out in her native speech.

"It's ok. It's me, Natasha- Steve." He said as he turned to see Thor rubbing his throat as he rose. Behind him Tony was pushed from the cell, a purple mark was searing itself across his sharp cheekbone. Clint followed Tony, still struggling; blood and spittle dripped from his chin.

"Stop resisting. It need not be so vicious." Thor said.

No one spoke. Thor's words hung like a noose in the air. Clint froze. In the blackness Tony wondered if the archer had come to the same conclusion Tony had: they were being rounded up for the slaughter.

"As their leader, you'll be there eyes, Rogers."

The specter beside Clint took one of his mottled hands and placed it on Tony's shoulder. Tony tried to shake it off, not knowing it was Clint's, at first until the archer squeezed harshly. Soldiers whose weapon of choice was the bow and arrow had distinctly strong hands.

Thor turned his back as if he couldn't look any longer at the pitiful sight before him.

"Come." The god commanded.

Steve moved to stand, but was stayed by Natasha's hand gripping a fistful of his shirt.

"Steve."

He wanted so much to remove the strip of black cloth, so he could look her in the eyes, but didn't want to insight anymore strife.

"My leg, its- its not good." She bit out, her jaw tight as a vice.

She didn't need to say more. Steve looped his arm around her midsection and lifted her with him as he stood. She leaned against him and allowed him to take most of her weight, but he left her enough to have the appearance of walking on her own.

Steve turned them both and walked to Tony.

"Tony."

Tony's head snapped up.

"Rogers." Tony said, nodding in the direction's Steve's voice emanated from.

"What not going to give me a hard time?" Steve said as he took Tony's hand and placed it on his shoulder.

"I'm not really one for gallows humor, Cap." Tony said. Steve did not reply, but turned to face Thor; making sure not to lose contact with Tony's hand as he did so.

Tony could feel Clint's fingers quake at his words and he regretted them immediately. They rang against the surrounding walls with the crisp lucidity of truth.

* * *

Important note: I may (or may not- if I change my mind) be placing this under new characters- I'm thinking Tony/Steve- it won't change the content or direction of my story or the teamcentricness. So remember my story's name next for the next time I post or follow the story.

Up next: Bringing back Bruce and Loki and continuing the madness

Please, please review! I want to know what you like, so I can write more of it. If I can get some solid feedback I'll post twice a week.

Thanks for reading!


	27. To War

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters.

Author: To all those who read and review, favorite or follow- thanks so much! I hope you enjoy the update. After weeks of travel, holidays and a significant bout of writers block. I'm back. I hope you like the new chapter. Thanks for the support!

* * *

"Why are you doing this?" Bruce huffed as the shackles bit into his wrists. "You must have some end in mind."

Loki regarded him causally as stripped off his long jacket. He wore a fitted evergreen tunic beneath an elaborate black leather and silver breastplate. The swirling inlaid silver glinted in the candle's light like leopard's teeth against the inky black. _He's going to war. _Bruce felt his stomach clench instinctively as the Other Guy flailed.

"I appreciate your feeble attempt to understand my position, Mr. Banner. Unfortunately, you are asking the wrong question altogether." Loki said turning toward the expansive hall and raising his staff.

The smooth black marble suddenly began to ripple and bow. The floor bubbled; pure, fresh water oozed from the now churning black stone. As the water rose the black pitch sank lower until there was a long pool spread before Loki. The rectangle of dark water stretched from entrance of the hall to just before the massive pillars Bruce was laced between. The hair on Bruce's scalp spiked. He understood science, that which was measurable and subject to reason, but Loki's powers were antithetical to everything he knew. That thought sunk Bruce lower and the Other Guy wailed. Loki was unquantifiable. How could they possibly overcome him?

Loki's hand trembled as he lowered the scepter. He sucked in air and sweat slicked his brow.

"Tired?" Bruce jabbed, anger had always been both his wound and his balm.

Loki didn't turn, but chuckled amusedly to himself, his chest still heaving.

"I told you: you're always asking the wrong questions." Loki sighed. "You asked: 'why'? When you should have asked 'when'

Loki faced Bruce; the bones on his pallid visage seemed sharper than before, like they could cut.

"'When' is the key, not 'why'. Why I do what I do is no concern of yours. Ask me 'when'. Ah, yes that is the truly interesting question."

Bruce licked his gnawed lip and tasted fresh metal.

"When?"

Loki approached and pulled out a black cloth from his pocket. He was a good half a foot taller than Bruce, but Bruce met his stare, his light brown eyes daring.

"When?" He pressed, his voice was like sandpaper.

"When they realize I am the only mercy left to save them from themselves."

Before Bruce could reply the black cloth was forced between his lips and his tongue ceased to cry.

* * *

Each step behind the blindfold was like walking a tightrope; every time their feet met the solid earth it was a small gift.

They walked like lepers, thrashed and filthy with sweat and blood, each one of them a link in a tired chain of humanity that stumbled into the vast darkness.

By the time they broached the room Bruce was held in, Clint could hardly stand. With the blindfold on his dizziness had intensified and as the adrenalin subsided he could feel the bruises and fractures Thor's colossal strength had inflicted. Tony felt the pressure on his shoulder wane and heard Clint's labored breath. He let go of Steve's shoulder for a moment and reached around to loop his broad arm around Clint. Steve glanced back covertly. He slowed slightly and offered his hand to Tony, who stretched the length of the chain linking his wrists until it was taught to grasp Steve's hand.

Steve took a small comfort in Tony firm grasp. He was not alone in this. He would take what comfort he was given at times like these- they were few and far between.

* * *

Bruce had tried to prepare himself for seeing the others. He knew it wouldn't be good no matter what and he knew he had to steady himself. He couldn't let whatever he saw shake his resolve and loose the Other Guy while he was distracted.

He thought he had been prepared. He was wrong.

Thor was the first through the archway and though he seemed physically unharmed, his color was that of an eggshell and his brow seemed permanently furrowed in concern. He moved aside and allowed the others to pass in front of him.

A groan tumbled from Bruce's gagged lips before he could stop it. Tears scorched his eyes and he dropped his head, his arms shaking from shoulder to fingertips. The Other Guy pummeled his confines, tearing at his face with his fingers and ripping at his hair like an animal.

Seeing them he now understood what Loki had meant. The fearsome troupe of misfits he had grown to love had been stripped of pride and dignity. The image of his friends blinded, dirty, hobbled stayed in his mind even when he closed his eyes to shield himself from the horror in the comfort of darkness. Still, their figures remained; partially naked, torn, and tattooed with bruises- his only family: broken.

A wave of screams like a wall of fire engulfed him. The Other Guy was growing, fed by the rage and terror Bruce felt.

_Breath. Don't let go. Just Breath, damnit._ Bruce chanted to himself. _ Breath. Breath._

* * *

Loki stopped short upon seeing the prisoners and his eyes immediately left them and went to his brother. Thor stood tall, though consternation colored his well defined features, he seemed every bit the confident leader Loki had witnessed in so many battles. Though Loki still had his doubts as to the strength of Thor's loyalty, his treatment of his former teammates certainly pleased Loki.

The blindfolds were a trick Thor often employed against enemies. It was the best way to engender fear without physically harming anyone; though the fresh blood dripping from Barton's chin did not escape his notice. He'd fought to them end, Loki had expected no less and continued to expect no less from him. He took no pleasure in bringing Barton to his knees, as they shared so much pain. When Loki had possessed Barton he was shocked to see how much they had in common. Both came from savage tragedies that should have claimed their lives, but battled back and succeeded in overcoming them. Still, Loki would do what was necessary for his cause and if that meant more anguish for Barton, then so be it.

He swept past Bruce and Thor and nodded curtly to Steve who seemed to grip the injured Natasha to him more tightly. Loki looked at her and she seemed to sense his eyes. She pushed off of Steve, steadying herself on her own two feet as best she could. She held her arms in front of her with her fists punctuating each arm, poised to attack.

"What is this? What are you going to do?" Steve asked gazing at the bleak plane of water before him. His question remained unanswered.

Loki fingered the chain that hung between Natasha's wrists like a sash. Her breath caught in her lungs.

Loki nodded at his specters. In unison they approached the nearest captor and removed their blindfolds, then proceeded to tie the black swatches between their lips effectively muting them. Tony, whose tongue was his deadliest natural weapon resisted with tooth and nail, but Clint, exhausted and drooping in his comrade's arm fought only weakly as the gag was placed between his scratched lips. An additional tie was placed between Steve's teeth, he released Natasha more fully as he attempted to fight the specter.

Natasha's who's blindfold remained, took a step forward. Loki's mere presence guiding her like a fish on a hook. She could feel him, ever since he'd unmade her, his imprint never left. She knew he'd be there always like a canker in her mind.

If he wanted her- he could take her. As she'd walked toward the room she knew the time had come. She could feel a humming in her bones and knew he was near. Biologically her teammates were drawn to protect her, despite her strength or capability. Loki would try to use her against them, to hurt them. She knew it would work best if she protested. She wouldn't. She leaned gingerly on injured leg, then when she felt solid enough, she raised her head. If she didn't have the blindfold on she'd be looking straight into his eyes.

She felt a tingling in her arms and suddenly his fingertips grazed her through Tony's coarsely starched shirt. Behind her she heard chains rattled and stifled ire.

_They can see, but they can't speak. _She surmised.

"I can still take the pain away." He whispered to her. She twisted inside.

"There is nothing more you can take from me." She replied. It had been her mantra from a young age.

"If only that were true." He quipped, sounding nearly forlorn in tone. His breath left her face and she could hear his footsteps recede as he went to the others.

"My people are steeped in ritual beyond the brief existence of your kind. When prisoners were captured they were taken, divested, bound and thrown into the pit of water. The only object was to make it to the other end of the stretch. So simple and yet only the strongest survived. They were then, newly cleansed, given garments of their newly won servitude and paraded through to halls of the kingdom as the slaves they were." Loki glanced at Thor whose eyes still betrayed a glint concern for the captors. Thor turned away and walked to the end of the hall where Bruce was chained. He could not abide Loki's ritual even if it was from Asgard and from their culture; some parts of history were better left entombed. Not even an enemy deserved this. "Does that suffice as answer to your earlier question, Captain?"

Steve shook his head and tried to object through the rough cloth. Loki chuckled.

"Now who will be the-"

"I will." Natasha said she turned around to where Loki's baritone was emanating. _Your move, Motherfucker._ She spat out muddled blood and saliva.

Loki's small smile withered into a hard line.

A specter approached her and unchained each of her scuffed wrists. She wanted to itch the scrapes, but knew that would only cause more bleeding and later infection. She crossed her arms. The blindfold was removed and placed between her obedient lips. She'd done this song and dance before. Experience had taught her to play along or you get a sharp slap or a boot to the groin. Even though she knew it wasn't Loki's style she wouldn't take the chance of losing her mobility any further.

"You wish to be the first?" He asked. Natasha's stare served as a curt reply. Behind him she could see Clint's drooping head raise. His stony eyes caught and held hers. He knew she always would rather jump than be pushed into things. He loved and hated that about her. She looked at him fixedly as if daring him to turn away first. Maybe he should feel glad she could look at him after all this, but there was a separation in her eyes, a wall she had up. It was as if she was looking through him or at a picture in her mind- not really connecting to what she was seeing. He'd seen her look at many marks that way- almost always they were the ones she was expected to be intimate with. They were dogs to her that she would eventually be forced to put down. Was that all he was now? Tears formed in the corners of his eyes and he broke her gaze.

She looked away from Clint's bowed crown and turned to the water, that mirror of ebony, and bit the inside of her lip till she bled.

She stood tall and waited for Loki's next move, like a nail waiting for the hammer to swing.

* * *

Author: Thanks for reading. Please please review! Happy holidays and Merry Christmas to those who celebrate.


	28. Bared

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters.

Author: Thanks to all those reading and especially to those who reviewed- you keep me writing.

* * *

Tony wished to God she had just stayed put, not pressed forward and challenged Loki. He suspected what she was up to, but the small whine in Clint's throat beside him as she turned her back on them and looked out over the pool, made Tony sick at heart. Loki wasn't done that was for sure. He hated to be bested by anyone and the way that he looked at Natasha was different than how he looked at the rest of the team.

Tony could see a gleam of contempt and pleasure in Loki's eyes as he took in Natasha's proud stance. Loki loved a good fight and Natasha was clever enough to give him one. She'd set Loki on his heels by offering to take his test with obedience. It was a subtle defiance that forced Loki to change tactics. He'd wanted tears and fists, not quiet surrender- that left him with little control over her teammates. Loki knew her anguish would reverberate through her team.

"What do you think you will find in the deep?" Loki's voice made Clint hitch and Tony grasped him more tightly. Steve turned to Tony, his brow furrowed. Tony's spared him only a moment's glance; sometimes Steve's naiveté was painful for Tony.

Natasha turned to face him, knowing if she tried to hide anything Loki would only cause more of a spectacle. Her eyes held Loki's with an indifferent gaze, as if they were sitting having coffee.

Natasha shrugged a glib reply to Loki's perusing and felt a pang in her injured bicep as a response.

Loki walked to the water and dipped his finger in, as if testing the heat of it. Natasha paid him little mind as she began to work at the buttons of Tony's shirt with her good hand; in her condition she could use no impediment to her movement. She knew there was something in the water should could not see, some trial still to come waiting for her beneath the glassy surface.

When each dainty button had finally sprung free she slowly shrugged the mottled garment off and let it pool around her feet. The sensual nature of the moment was entirely lost on Tony as the shirt slipped off to reveal the ribbons of bruises and scratch marks. She rotated her injured bicep which had grown stiff with disuse. Unconsciously she recalled the last time she'd been in this state of undress, but she cut herself off from the rising fear and crossed her arms over her torso. Loki, hateful as he may be would never attempt something as bold as he had when they had been alone. She met Tony's eyes but his eyes were drawn behind her and a look of concern swept over his face.

"I see you found comforting hands." Loki said as his knuckles grazed the scraps of cloth Steve had fastened around the wound on her upper arm. When his skin touched hers there was a stirring in the pit of her stomach. "Which one tended your wounds? Was it Tony? I'd think not- he doesn't often think of others, does he?"

Tony bristled at this but stayed muted beneath the gag.

"Perhaps my brother did this?" Natasha's head snapped to where Thor stood looking into the fireplace across the hall, lost in his own world. The light of the dancing flames seemed to lap at his face. Loki could not mistake the bitter disappointment that mark her gaze when she looked at Thor. Perhaps his brother's conversion was genuine after all.

"The Captain then." Loki said commanding her attention once more. "You are quick to adapt aren't you? I must say I'm impressed, especially after your attempt to woo me went so awry. You were back on your feet in no time- or was it your knees again?"

He grabbed her arm before she could even contemplate striking him. He pulled her towards him until his breath was on the round of her ear, though his voice was loud enough for them all to hear.

"Have you told them of your sacrifice?" He hissed. Natasha's already pale skin blanched at his words. "Why lie to them? Did you tell them how you offered yourself to me in my moment of need? It was rather poetic. Do you think he would have washed you and healed you if he knew who you really were- the duplicitousness of your nature?" Loki coiled a finger in her flame colored hair as he spoke, but his eyes were fixed on her companions. Tony was keenly aware that Clint's body had grown tense beside him. He was poised like a trap ready to snap. Tony shifted subtly so that he would be prepared to restrain him if need be.

"Why didn't you tell them? Perhaps the shock of Barton's violation took precedent in your mind? I see his marks have yet to fade. Can you still feel his hands tearing at you? What do you see when you look at him now? The man, or the true animal beneath the mask?" Loki asked tracing a particularly long scathing line from her jaw down her neck. Clint bowed his head to the ground and moaned; covering his ears like a child escaping thunder. Loki's blue eyes shifted keenly to Steve whose who could not conceal his horror. Natasha stayed silent as the damned up knowledge rushed over the Steve. Surprise colored his face but all the while his cobalt eyes seemed to darken as if shadowed by fury. He turned to Tony, who seemed to wilt slightly under the Captain's perusal.

"You haven't told them all I see? Do you think you will ever be part of them if you live a lie?" Natasha looked at the wall in the back of the room. She didn't know how much more of this she could take without fighting back; her resolve was straining.

Natasha stole a glance at Steve, but his expression was too painful to hold. It was a wash of such disgust, rage and heartbreak. No words passed her lips. What she had to say to Steve, to any of her teammates, she would not drag before Loki. That was what he wanted after all- dissention in the ranks. Suddenly Loki lifted her against him and spun her so that her tips of her toes hung over the edge of the pool.

She was still as the grave in his arms waiting for the drop. A fear she had not felt before traveled through her like a clammy web. Loki had dredged up too much. Suddenly she didn't feel prepared, she had unfinished business, but she kept her mouth shut and closed her eyes knowing the only out was through the water.

He turned her again and placed her on the ground.

_Motherfucker._ She stewed.

She shook off his grip and he released her. Her bad leg buckled beneath her and she landed on her knees, curling into herself like a knot.

_Please get up, Natasha._ Tony pleaded silently.

"So quiet all of a sudden- Isn't there anything you 'd like to say to them before you go? Some defense of your actions? Or even an attempt to garner there sympathy?"

Natasha felt her body pooling into the hard marble.

_I should lift my head and look at them. I should meet their eyes. I'm not guilty of any wrong doing, am I?_ She thought. But she could not.

"Nothing? Well, no matter. The past speaks for itself."

Loki arched his staff over her and Tony and Steve lunged forward, but both was stayed by the specters. Tony watched Natasha glad to see her ribs still expanding and contracting steadily. _It was nothing_. He reassured himself.

The first sound was indistinct like a wisp of smoke. Steve was not sure if he'd imagined it at first. It sounded like a painful breath caught in the lungs and he looked to Clint and Tony to see if either of them were hurt- but then it was louder. Panting, chocked sobs and gasping poured through the walls like wind. The hair on Tony's skull rose.

"Oh God Nat."

Steve didn't want to hear it. It couldn't be real.

Tony balled his hands until his fingernails left pink crescents in his hands. He knew what this was- what he was hearing. Loki conjured a gruesome orchestra: the sounds of what Natasha had endured with Clint and with him- indisputable proof of Loki's claims.

Natasha flinched. A few feet away Clint pounded the ground and screamed through the gag. It was like the sound a wolf makes in a trap.

The sound of breath. A short cry. Clint's clumsy, demanding mouth on Natasha's wounded arm.

"I could forgive you."

A sigh.

"I could forgive you."

The sound of Loki's lips over her's. His thick moan.

Natasha could almost feel it happening again as the symphony of the event reverberated in her ears. Her own shriek joined the chorus and she could not contain her sickness any more. Hot vomit spilled out of her and tears marked her face. She spit and wiped eyes and cheeks shakily. She knew what Loki wanted. She knew his game. She was ready to play her part; anything to end this.

She stood without looking at her teammates. She heard chains clatter as she turned, but she knew Loki's specters would keep them at bay. He would want no impediment to her surrender. There was no going back, there was no explaining.

All she saw was the black water like a womb before her. Fighting through the pain of her leg she hobbled toward it. At the edge she stopped. The sounds swirled around her and she could not say they weren't true. She was a spy. She was a liar.

She looked at Loki for a moment. He seemed surprised by her attention and she saw there was more in his eyes than hate. He had the look of a solider shouldering a heavy burden- almost a look of pain. Then he blinked and his glossy exterior reappeared.

She dove in and the muted tongue of darkness cloaked her hearing in merciful silence.

* * *

Author: Thanks for reading! Please, please review; it means a great deal to hear your thoughts. This chapter was difficult, but I have a good handle on the next one so hopefully it will be out soon :) Thanks so much for the support!

Next up: What is in the water? More Bruce. Tony's plan. Clint goes to Steve for help…


	29. Tooth and Nail

Author: Back in the country and I missed it so. I hope someone is still out there and wants to read this.

* * *

Thor's burly shoulders drooped at the sound of Natasha's defilement. It encircled the room and his stomach curled at the sound of the sighs like furnace, a mockery of love, and the cries of pain that followed swiftly on their heels. He stared into the fire until all he saw was flame and the darkness that surrounded it. He tried to tell himself that he had to do this. This was the only way.

"I could forgive you."

Natasha's practiced sultry voice held a hint of reticence. He heard his own brother's hedonistic pant. It jarred Thor from his meditation to hear that the sounds of Loki's pleasure did not seem contrived. There was a nascent pang to the noise that not even the greatest conjurer or courtesan could replicate.

Natasha had played at seducing his brother, but she didn't know that a part of Loki had already been ensnared by her. The noises that howled in the fire lit room were not counterfeit; Loki did feel something. This knowledge did not shock Thor. Loki felt something for all of The Avengers and bared it different ways. This was beyond war, though Loki would never admit it. Thor saw his brother slowly losing his control, going beyond the desire for revenge or victory over his enemies. His actions were on another plane. He wanted intimacy. Loki didn't want the skin, but the flesh, bone and tendons beneath it. Thor saw only flames and darkness. He could not look away. He could not participate in the ritual. He feared for Loki and his old teammates. The consequences Loki's desire wrought would be all-consuming and Thor felt there may be no way to stop them.

* * *

What was left in them, their fury, their adoration, their yearning for life rallied as Natasha's pale legs disappeared into the blackness like a feather slipping into oil.

Clint threw himself onto the nearest specter and began to choke him with the chain hanging between his wrists. Tears ran off his cheeks as the sounds of Natasha's repressed sobs plagued in him. He ripped the mask from the specter's face revealing Loki's pale impassive visage, though its eyes were totally white. He drew back as best he could with the chain restraining him and began to pummel the placid, angular face of the god. After a few minutes Clint's ire flagged and his fists became heavy. The milky eyed specter smiled at him through the crimson slick that bathed his nose and jaw and flashed a broken smile. With shocking force and speed it flipped Clint to the side and slammed his head on the ground. The grey of his iris swam and his eyes fluttered shut.

It took two specters to restrain Tony, who immediately sprinted for the pool, trying to plunge in after Natasha. He feared with her wounds she'd never see the other side, Russian upbringing or no. He threw specter over his shoulder, landing it flat on its back and dazed. The other he fought tooth and nail to overcome, but when the formerly defeated specter rejoined the fray Tony was overtaken by sheer strength. He was thrust to his bruised knees and pressed down until his forehead touched the cold black marble. Spit ran through his gag and his unshaven cheeks puffed. He heard a splash and a ragged pull of breath: Natasha had come up for air, perhaps there was hope yet.

Steve couldn't shake what he'd seen or heard. The sight of Natasha wrenching on the ground as the cries of ecstasy and agony ricochet off the surrounding walls. He couldn't believe it. She had betrayed him with her silence, but she had also been betrayed. Loki had warped love into terror. Steve couldn't look at Clint, didn't know what to think of his part in it all. Her crescent shoulder blades jutted out from her back like the clipped wings of a forsaken angel as she pushed herself from the harsh ground. He was numb as she sliced through the surface of the water and vanished. He hardly felt his body moving as he rose. The specter who was in charge of guarding him was felled with an astonishing grace. Adrenalin bolted through him as he snapped masked figure's neck like a wishbone. Loki's pupil's seeped black into sapphire at the sight of Steve's self-possessed advance.

Loki curled a finger in his direction. Steve felt a gentle rush of wind on his back and he stepped forward. As he reached the edge of pool, Natasha's white arm struck through the surface. Her hand looked as if it was clutching an invisible heart. For a moment it stuck out and her head followed briefly. Her lungs took in a deep breath, before she was quickly sucked below. The water churned. It was what Steve had feared, there was something in the pool.

When Steve stood within arm's reach of the god he shot out a steady hand and rested it on the crook of Loki's unblemished neck and with his other hand gripped Loki's forearm like a trusted friend. Steve could feel the animal patter of Loki's pulse point beneath his grip. How could the god feel so human, but act so heartlessly?

He looked at Loki. His gaze was determined and unapologetic. He didn't care if he was submitting to his enemy. He didn't care if this was suicide. He couldn't watch his teammate die.

Bucky's tanned, merry face flashed in Steve's mind's eye. He couldn't stand to have another friend stolen from him.

Steve's eyes glossed at this notion. He looked at Loki whose clever mouth was slightly agape scrutinizing Steve's countenance. The god seemed perversely fascinated by Steve's surge of emotions. It took Steve aback to catch the expression on Loki's face which usually bore a bland mask of dark amusement or hate. This was something else. Steve's heart drummed.

The water splashed. A tear brimmed over and dropped to the impeccable marble beneath. Loki was satisfied and knew there was promise in the Captain still.

Loki swept his staff and Steve's chains fell to the ground. Steve could hear his comrade's struggles dissipate. Steve removed his gag and took a step towards the edge, but Loki countered him, blocking his path. Steve felt the weight of the Liberator leave his side and Loki's lips quirked.

"For safe keeping. If you survive, that is."

Natasha's finger tips slashed through the water again and Steve brushed Loki to the side and plummeted into the pool.

* * *

She was not alone.

She had sensed it from the moment the water swathed her in muted cold.

She was not alone and her muscles burned. Every kick was like her leg being cleaved anew. She opened her eyes but only saw the black walls of the pool and the golden shafts of light from the cauldrons of fire above.

She was glad to hear the rush of water, to be away from the memory of how Clint's body collapsed her like an iron sinking into sand.

In a way she was unsurprised by the ghost that materialized before her. She knew she was not alone, but to see Irina, with her hair like corn silk and sumptuous mouth breathing the cool water still frightened Natasha. She looked just as she had the last time Natasha had seen her. She even wore the same pale pink dress they'd issued her for that fateful mission.

_They must have killed her that same night_, Natasha thought.

It was not until the apparition was within a few feet that Natasha noticed the holes in her neck and the blood that spooled threads of blood from the gashes in her ankles and wrists. She had been bound, Natasha assessed, before they killed her. It was a smart choice as Irena had been a more skilled assassin than even Natasha when she lived. By some act of grace Natasha had fallen into the girl's favor when she was first recruited to be trained. Irena had taught her how to keep out of trouble and keep alive. Natasha owed her life many times over to the girl.

As she swam closer a Natasha's spine stiffened. She saw tendrils of blood staining the water between Irena's legs. They hadn't spared her any humiliation before they killed her.

Suddenly Natasha was a child of fourteen again in the dingy uncarpeted room of a warehouse. Irena stood between her and Lev who looked at Natasha like a bug he desperately wanted to crush. He screamed at Irena, but she held her ground silently. When his onslaught tapered Irena calmly replied.

_It was me. I did not take the shot. It was me, not Tash_.

Lev clamped his massive paw around Irena's arm and stormed from the room. Even years later Natasha still could distinctly recall the expression on Irena's face as she was taken, there was a peace on the girl's face Natasha had only ever seen when she observed Irena sleeping. A tilt of a smile rested on her mouth even as tears wet her eyelashes.

She never saw Irena again, but she learned an important lesson. Never again would Natasha let someone else pay the price for her own mistakes. It was Natasha who had failed to shoot the mark that day, but Irena claimed the failure as her own.

_Your ledger is dripping, it's gushing red. _

Never again.

Natasha wondered if she could touch her, feel the safety of Irena's sure hands again even if just for a moment. As she reached out her arm she suddenly felt the gnarled roots of fear set firmly in her.

Irena Drakov was the past. She was dead and this was a dark fantasy Natasha could not entertain.

The shade seemed to sense her sudden change of heart and with inhuman deftness seized Natasha's wounded hand in a crushing grip. The air bubbled briefly from Natasha's lips as her wail floated to the surface soundlessly. Irena's ghost's other hand coiled around her neck. Natasha drove her arms upward until her arm felt the air above. She fought as the Irena's pale body wrapped around her like a spider immobilizing Natasha's legs and arms. Natasha could feel them begin to sink under the collective weight. Her finger's scratched, but she could not release herself. She would die in the arms of the ghost of the woman who she owed her life to- it seemed fitting somehow.

She felt a pull.

She kicked her legs and felt a snap of pain. She wanted to feel something before it was over. Natasha Romanoff didn't go quietly.

* * *

When Steve finally saw Natasha's figure in the gloom she had begun to drift down. He noticed something was wrapped around her. A grey mottled figure was twisted about her torso and thighs. Steve surged to the top and sucked a lungful of air before diving back down. When he reached them the figure turned its face up to look at Steve and he saw it was the decaying face of a young girl. She was missing an eye and half of her lips had been eroded exposing blackened gums. Steve could see that her remaining teeth were sharp incisors.

Steve acted immediately, grabbing the girl's hands and prying them apart. The girl's teeth gnashed. Steve saw Natasha's feet kick vainly. She was still alive, but he had to be fast. He shoved the girl back by her breast plate and collected Natasha in his arms. Natasha turned her head to him and he could see her foggy blue eyes light in recognition. The figure's legs were still securely bound around Natasha's thighs. They both set to work trying to pull them off but neither could get leverage. They continued to fall deeper into the water and the light diminished. As Steve worked at the girl's legs he felt a sudden sharp stab in his upper arm. He looked up and in the shadowy water he saw the outline of girl's festering mouth secured around his arm. She reared her head back and tore a tract of skin from his arm. Steve's mouth opened and a rush of water poured in.

He was going to drown.

Steve remembered the ice and the ocean. Steve remembered the agony of existence in a murky pit without life or death.

He lashed out until he felt his fist connect with the girl's skull. He grabbed her by the thin strains of greyed hair and palmed over her face like brail until he felt her nose and eyes. Then he plunged his fingers into the girl's remaining eye, grinding down into the socket as her nails ran lines into his naked side and cheek. The girl's jaw gaped in a cry and her legs released Natasha. He pushed her away and she sightlessly groped the air between them. Steve felt his energy fading.

A small hand closed around his and tugged urgently. He turned to see Natasha's face inches from his, a red halo of hair billowing around her face. Her eyes were open, but unfocused. She'd stayed when she could have gone to the surface, when she _should_ have gone to the surface. She was trying to protect him too. This time he wasn't alone in the pit. Steve's lungs stung, but he swam toward the light with a power he did not know was in him.

* * *

Since I'm back in the country now, hopefully I can get back on my normal writing schedule so you can expect more regular posting from me.

Please review! I love to hear your thoughts. As ever thank you so much for reading!


	30. Home

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters.

Author: Thanks to those who read and especially to those who reviewed! One review struck me in particular. I realized I'd never tried my hand at writing Pepper, so thank you reviewer. I hope this satisfies you. Plus I really needed a break from the heavy stuff.

* * *

Pepper stood at the countertop leafing through a magazine half-heartedly as a mug of white tea steamed beside her. She waited.

Across the room Tony was on a conference call with Fury and several high-ranking US officials. She looked up and smiled amusedly as Tony caught her glance and rolled his eyes. It was rare for him to be so quiet, but he didn't want to prolong the call. She didn't know how much time they had before Steve, Bruce and Clint came back from their Shield debriefing.

"Ok, yep. Sounds good. I'll be there on Monday. Yep, with bells on."

He hung up the phone and tossed his earpiece on the nearest couch.

"Hungry?"

"Sure. I can make us some crepes."

"Miss Potts, that's practically un-American of you."

"Oui Monsieur."

"For shame." He smiled and wrapped his arms around her. She looked so free with her strawberry blonde hair unpinned and casually dressed in jean shorts and a camisole. He held her tightly for a moment taking in her lilac scent and feeling the realness of her body pressed against his.

Pepper waited for him to be ready to let go. Ever since the battle he'd held on a little bit longer than he had before. She didn't mind it. It wasn't weakness or desperation; it was just recognition of what he stood to lose. He placed a chaste kiss on her exposed, lightly freckled shoulder and stepped back.

He wove a hand into her loosely cured hair and looked her flush in the eyes. She did not balk, but smiled warmly and returned his gaze.

"Breakfast?" She suggested tentatively after a moment.

Tony turned and nodded scratching his head as he went to grab a pan and a mixing bowl. Pepper went to the refrigerator and pulled out the milk and eggs.

"You know I've been thinking."

"What's that?" Tony asked searching the cabinet for the flour.

She cracked an egg over the sink just as Tony placed a bowl beside her to deposit the yoke in. It tickled Pepper how harmoniously they worked in the kitchen, just like in life. He was always there to back her up and the same was true of her.

"I've been thinking about the plans for the tower you showed me earlier."

"You mean what we'll do with what is left of it?" Tony offered with a wink.

Pepper whisked the ingredients and pursed her lips. The floors at the bottom of the tower and the suites at the very apex had all suffered heavy damages. Luckily, Pepper had the foresight to suggest a floor for visiting dignitaries and potential, international, business partners to sojourn at in the center of the tower. That is where they'd all been staying while the rubble and shards of glass were being removed. The tower had been Pepper's baby, but she it took it destruction in stride.

She glanced at Tony spreading butter across the sizzling griddle. Considering what she could have lost she hardly cared what happened to the tower.

"Ok, what we'll do with what is left, but Tony I think it's missing something."

"That doesn't seem possible. I made the designs myself, but if anyone is going to prove me wrong, it'd be you."

She laughed and began pooling the batter across the griddled.

"Glad you can admit that to yourself. It looked to me that you didn't design a space for the others to live. I mean we have these rooms, but I'm talking about actual personalized living spaces. I was thinking that-"

"Whoa, hold on. What are you talking about?"

She stared at him. "The others: Bruce, Steve, Natasha, Clint, Thor. Well, Thor, when he isn't on his own home planet. Gosh, I can't believe how normal it feels to say that, like gods have always been around."

"What? Who said anything about them staying here permanently? Was it Bruce because we both know what trouble maker that guy can be?" Tony asked.

"Tony." Pepper sighed "This was meant to happen and you can't turn away from that."

Tony pulled a carton of orange juice from the refrigerator and popped off the cap. He took a swig.

"This could really use some vodka."

"I think we're out between Thor and Natasha." Pepper countered flipping the third crepe onto a waiting plate.

"Figures. We don't play we'll together, ya know? That was the assessment." Tony said as he removed two plates and utensils from the counter.

"But you fight well together." She quipped.

Tony rubbed his eyes. He knew she was right. He wasn't one for cosmic bullshit but he felt the same way: this was meant to happen.

"I already designed the floor for them. It's just below our penthouse. There'll be room for all of them. I don't even know why I did it. I thought…"

"Just in case." Pepper placed a crepe on his plate and took a napkin from the holder.

"Yeah, just in case." He nodded and looked out on city. After a few weeks it had ceased to smolder and the bright lights on Broadway were rekindled. These were good signs. People went to work, got coffee, and complained about the tax rate, these were all good signs. They were signs that life would be normal again soon for many people, but not for Tony Stark.

It wasn't just The Tony Stark anymore, it was The Team. How could that be? When did that happen without his notice? They'd always fight together, but who said anything about living together permanently? He had invited Bruce to stay, hell he'd invited them all, but he figured the others would slip off the first chance they felt it wouldn't be an insult to his hospitality. Tony would understand, afterall you can play sleepover forever.

They didn't leave, instead slowly they formed routines. In the mornings Steve, Natasha and Thor trained together. Tony passed by the gym one morning and found an incredibly unlikely sparring bout between Thor and Natasha. His size and her speed made them nearly equally matched. He stood watching them fight for thirty minutes before Steve realized it would never end and dinged the closing bell to signify the match's end. Clint sometimes took part in the trainings, but often could be found in the lab with Bruce. He didn't have the capacity for science that Bruce and Tony possessed, but he was curious and very quick. Plus, unlike Bruce he did have an aptitude for weaponry and was constantly looking to improve his artillery. With Tony's help he eventually perfected a blunt arrow with the ability to send a shock and stun the target, effectively immobilizing them without killing them. Tony himself was impressed with it, though it was a bit too covert for his tastes. When Clint tired of tinkering he'd head to the sparring room or the Shield HQ.

One night Natasha didn't come back. Then it was two nights. Tony began to wonder if she'd opened the door to leave for the others. If it was going to be anyone then it'd be her. She always did as she chose. Tony wondered if the word 'sorry' had an equivalent in her native tongue; by her actions he couldn't be sure. Then on the fourth night she sauntered through the elevator doors sporting spike heels and a blackened eye. She swatted away Steve's offer to take her to medical.

Thor and Bruce exchanged concerned glances as Pepper filled a rag with ice. Clint watched from the arm of a sofa. He nodded to her and she returned the gesture.

"Mission." She explained in her characteristically brief way.

They set up shop in the remains of tower and even when they left for days they always came back. It was the base. It was home forever.

Pepper's fingers touched Tony's hand lightly, bringing him back to the present.

"I think this is good. I think it's the right thing."

"What about us?"

He countered taking her hand.

"What about us?" She shot back as she ran a smooth leg against his jeans beneath the table.

"You're not worried what having all these people in the tower will do to our sex life?" He quirked an eyebrow deviously.

Pepper's eyes crinkled at the side as she grinned.

"Mr. Stark, I never worry about our sex life." Pepper said as she cleared their plates and made a show of languidly stalking off to the kitchen. Tony watched the sway of her backside appreciatively then rose to follow her. He stood behind her while she ran the sink. He swept stray locks of hair from her shoulder and a hand grazed the swell of her breast. A soft gasp escaped her rose colored lips.

"Prove it." He whispered into her ear and pressed his growing hardness against her curves. She spun and brushed her sudsy fingers over his scalp. Their lips met in a crushing kiss that ended in laughter. Tony had never been happier to be alive. He hoisted her over his shoulder and Pepper squeaked loudly as he slapped her butt, just before letting out another burst of laughter.

"To the bedchamber. Ho!" Tony proclaimed in his best Thor imitation. Pepper giggled breathlessly as Tony walked determinedly to his bedroom.

* * *

For a man with so much wealth, it made him smile that that was the moment he held to when he wanted comfort. It had seemed as if everything had aligned. He was on the right course and for once in his life things were meant to be. Tony shut his eyes. If Pepper were here that's what she would tell him.

_This is not the end. You have a purpose. Keep going._

His eyes snapped open at the sound of splashing. Steve's head broke the water first and Natasha followed suit shortly thereafter. She coughed and tossed a red shock of hair out of her face. Tony breathed relief.

He unconsciously ran over Clint's bruised face which rested in his lap. Clint mumbled against his gag. Tony looked down at his teammate. His jaw was slack against the gag just trying to breath and his eyes seemed to stare far beyond Tony's face. Tony removed both their gags not caring what the specters did.

"We're going to have to go." Tony said softly. "I won't leave you here, but I don't think we'll have a choice."

"I know, Stark. It's time." Tony stood and shouldered Clint up. The archer looked across the water at Natasha's flame colored hair bobbing in the center of the pool. His vision filled with stars and she disappeared into whiteness. He blinked and could see again. Everything was pain, but he wanted to go on. He wanted to be on the other side with his team, despite everything that had happened. Loki turned to them and cast his staff. Their chains rattled on the marble. He stepped to the side and gestured to the water.

Tony didn't like it. He didn't like walking into the gas chamber willingly, but he knew there was only one thing to do.

_Time to bite the bullet_.

* * *

Author: So this chapter was a bit odd for me tone-wise and I'm not sure if it really works, but I just thought I'd mix it up a bit. I hope you liked it. Please review and let me know. Thanks for reading!


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